" "You say that the miniature was abstracted from Lady Trafford's jewel-box," said Jonathan, in a loud voice. Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. Never was there another girl like this one. 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. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. ‘That I do not yet know. "Remember!" cried Quilt, as he forced the captive along. " "Constance alive? Impossible!" ejaculated Trenchard.
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