They would find me guilty and sentence me to a convict prison.

I saw Dartmoor prison on my wedding journey with Felicita, Heaven help me! She liked the wild, solitary moor, with its great tors and its desolate stillness, and one day we went near to the prison.

Those grim walls seemed to take possession of me; I felt oppressed and crushed by them.

I could not forget them for days after, even with Felicita by my side." His voice trembled as he spoke, and a quiver ran through his whole frame, which seemed to thrill through Phebe's; but she only pressed her pitiful hand more closely on his.
"I might have escaped last night," he went on, "but I stumbled over a poor girl in the street, dying.

A young girl, no older than you, without a penny or a friend; a sinner too like myself; and I could not leave her there alone.