Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge.
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