” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. Wood laughed louder than ever. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. 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. " A detective. "Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. CHAPTER XVI. .
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