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. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. "Here, Bess, give me the cord, and I'll tie him to this chest of drawers.
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