While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. Proceeding along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it.
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