He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. And when, at length, it was struck, he wanted energy to pursue his advantages. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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