“No!” he said aloud at last. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Within that dungeon lay Captain Bew, Rumbold and Whitney—a jolly crew! All carved their names on the stone, and all Share the fate of the brave Du Val! With their chisels so fine, tra la! "Save us!" continued the apprentice, "I hope this beam doesn't resemble the Newgate stone; or I may chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing on the Tyburn tree for my pains. It isn’t such fun as it seems. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here.
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