"And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. “Now here hath been dawning another blue day; I’m just a poor woman, please take it away. ‘But tell me this instead. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. No means were neglected to accomplish this end. "Read the first chapter of Job"; beyond that, nothing. Well, let's beat it to the hotel. 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. I must go and dress at once. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow.
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