"So much the worse," replied Jonathan, rising and taking a turn, as if uncertain what to do. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. 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. All further examinations must be conducted in the presence of proper witnesses. They've heard quite enough for my purpose," he muttered, as his orders were obeyed, and the domestics excluded. "Jack is just gone back to the Condemned Hold. ’ He flushed. Wood; but they never come now.
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