Ravings

What shudders envelope my frame! Yet what have I to fear of questions? I’m to die on the marrow. The king’s tax is heavier on me this year, his law wanting my head. He’ll not get another penny out of me after this. Don’t go yet, I’ll answer you. It does me little good, it does me little bad, but I’ll answer. I have no reason to lie no more, yet see no cause to tell the truth either. I wonder what I shall give you. Ask. Ask already! Hear you them not? They are coming. They come with chains. Ask before they come for me.

I’m not inclined to say. I think an evil thing you will discover there. Yes. I have no time to draw a map. I found the way by accident, poaching I wandered in the woods. I was desperate to escape my hunters. I jumped into that old well by the moss-covered ruins of the old manor. It was wonderful, terrible. I won’t go back; I long to return. A sigh there is a sunrise, and to blink your eyes is to see all of heaven’s stars. But go not there, or go there, whichever be careful what you see.

Now you hear them coming round the corner there. Run child, and consider what you must do.

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