Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. 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. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how.
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