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. It's as well to be on the safe side. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens.
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