He was snoring stupidly. Ennison paused by the little gate. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him.
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