Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. " With this, he drew the spike from his pocket; and, drowning the sound of the operation by whistling, singing, shuffling, and other noises, contrived, in a few minutes, to liberate his companion from the handcuffs.
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