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” He walked from his door frame to stand nearer to her. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. He had been baptized there. “You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. The Chapel was situated in the south-east angle of the jail; the ordinary at the time of this history being the Reverend Thomas Purney; the deputy chaplain, Mr.
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