And while her son was reconveyed to prison the body of the unfortunate Mrs. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. 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. The windows which were about nine feet from the floor, had no glass; but were secured by thick iron bars, and an oaken beam. ’ ‘Entertained, he says!’ ‘Intrigued, then,’ amended Gerald equably, although truth to tell he was enjoying the mystery enormously. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. Only an undermaid I was then. She fought him with tooth and nail.
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