His name is carved upon a beam up stairs." "Indeed!" said Shotbolt.

"Where can I hide myself ?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet.
"Under the table.

The cloth nearly touches the floor.

Give me your staff.

It'll be in your way." "Suppose he brings Blueskin, or some other ruffian with him," hesitated the jailer.
"Suppose he does.