Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. On his return to the room, Jonathan purposely left the door of the Well Hole ajar. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. By the side of her plate was a small key. " The head turnkey, in all probability, would have obeyed. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter.
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