The chief scene of these disgusting orgies,—the cellar, just referred to,—was a large low-roofed vault, about four feet below the level of the street, perfectly dark, unless when illumined by a roaring fire, and candles stuck in pyramidal lumps of clay, with a range of butts and barrels at one end, and benches and tables at the other, where the prisoners, debtors, and malefactors male and female, assembled as long as their money lasted, and consumed the time in drinking, smoking, and gaming with cards and dice. "In spots you are a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad. Gave me a purse, and told me to take both of ’em up to Harwich and put them on a packet for Holland. ” “I should have his head on a platter!” Sebastian exclaimed dramatically. There was something very wrong. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper.
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