His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. "Hurrah! come along, Thames; we're free. ” He adjusted his glasses on his nose. That is why I called myself Anna. “Believe me, I know. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone.
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