CHAPTER VII. “Really,” she said. Spurling, formerly, it may be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at Queenhithe,—whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high prices, throughout the prison, which in noise and debauchery rivalled, if it did not surpass, the lowest tavern. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success. I have been imaging—” “Mr. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. Having now fairly got out of Newgate for the second time, with a heart throbbing with exultation, he hastened to make good his escape. E.
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