" "The pianist?" "Yes. "Your ladyship has never been well since you married Sir Cecil," rejoined Mrs. ’ ‘Then they are soldiers. He decided that Hoddy should pay a colossal price for the Dawn Pearl—shame, loneliness, torment, for only through these agencies would he learn your worth. He had done it. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. Amidst it all, however, there were several light-hearted and laughing groups walking from cell to cell to whom all this misery appeared matter of amusement. The boss says to me: 'Higg, here's a guy we want back. Here the ribs of a thousand pounds beating against the Needles— those dangerous rocks, credulity here floated, to and fro, silks, stuffs, camlets, and velvet, without giving place to each other, according to their dignity; here rolled so many pipes of canary, whose bungholes lying open, were so damaged that the merchant may go hoop for his money," A less picturesque, but more truthful, and, therefore, more melancholy description of the same scene, is furnished by the shrewd and satirical Ned Ward, who informs us, in the "Delectable History of Whittington's College," that "When the prisoners are disposed to recreate themselves with walking, they go up into a spacious room, called the Stone Hall; where, when you see them taking a turn together, it would puzzle one to know which is the gentleman, which the mechanic, and which the beggar, for they are all suited in the same garb of squalid poverty, making a spectacle of more pity than executions; only to be out at the elbows is in fashion here, and a great indecorum not to be threadbare.
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