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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"The Black Arrow"

These were certainly some of the late arrivals.
"Here is no help," said Dick. "Let us try back."
"Nay," said Joanna; "maybe the passage goeth farther."
And she pushed on. But a few yards farther the passage ended at
the top of a short flight of steps; and it became plain that, as
long as the soldiers occupied the hall, escape was impossible upon
that side.
They retraced their steps with all imaginable speed, and set
forward to explore the other branch. It was exceedingly narrow,
scarce wide enough for a large man; and it led them continually up
and down by little break-neck stairs, until even Dick had lost all
notion of his whereabouts.
At length it grew both narrower and lower; the stairs continued to
descend; the walls on either hand became damp and slimy to the
touch; and far in front of them they heard the squeaking and
scuttling of the rats.
"We must be in the dungeons," Dick remarked.
"And still there is no outlet," added Joanna.
"Nay, but an outlet there must be!" Dick answered.


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