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The light!—the light!" Astounded at his cries, Thames sprang towards him. 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. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. But that bridge was more remarkable than any the metropolis now possesses. ” For a moment Mr. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind.
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