The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. 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. " "And I hope he will, if it's anything to Jonathan's disadvantage," muttered Mrs. Sheppard now directed her steps. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. When you send for me I shall come back.
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