Wardsmen, selected in each yard among the best of the prisoners, are very serviceable. If prisoners work, they should work in silence

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good! / She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! / They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, / Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, / Cold, on the stroke of midnight, / The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

If you actually mean any of this, I can only file you beneath every moron, fuckwit, and addle-brained cousin humper I've ever run across on usenet

It was wondrous. 'I'm awfully glad I came now,' his thought ran; 'I'm managing it rather well.'