"Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails.
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