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 it struck me that Mr. Godwin and Moll could not have left the house had the door been locked on the inside; "I do believe we are locked in and made prisoners," says I.

"Why, sure, this is not Mr. Godwin's doing!" cries he.

"'Tis Simon," says I, with conviction, seeing him again in my mind, standing behind Mr. Godwin, with wicked triumph in his face.

"Is there no other door but this one?" asks Dawson.

"There is one at the back, but I have never yet opened that, for lack of a key." And now setting one thing against another, and recalling how I had before found the door open, when I felt sure I had locked it fast, the truth appeared to me; namely, that Simon had that key and did get in the back way, going out by the front on that former occasion in haste upon some sudden alarm.

"Is there never a window we can slip through?" asks Jack.

"Only those above stairs; the lower are all barred."

"A fig for his bars. Does he think we have neither hands nor wits to be hindered by this silly woman's trick?"

"'Tis no silly trick. He's not the man to do an idle thing. There's mischief in this."

"What mischief can he do us more than he has done?—for I see his hand in our misfortune. What mischief, I say?—out with it, man, for your looks betray a fear of something worse."

"Faith, Jack, I dread he has gone to fetch help and will lodge us in gaol for this business."

"Gaol!" cries he, in a passion of desperation. "Why, this will undo Moll for ever. Her husband can never forgive her putting such shame upon him. Rouse yourself, man,