Spurling, formerly, it may be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at Queenhithe,—whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high prices, throughout the prison, which in noise and debauchery rivalled, if it did not surpass, the lowest tavern. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. I have always been lonely. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. " "Devilish hard! I'm not allowed a chance," grumbled Austin, as he was left alone.
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