He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. 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. . " "You won't complain of the delay when I tell you what I've done," answered Jack. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. Accordingly, on their presentation, Mr. I was certain of it. And empty. He's down in Patagonia somewhere.
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