Would to God I had. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. This horrible piece of deformity, who acted as drawer and cellarman, and was a constant butt to the small wits of the jail, was nicknamed the Black Dog of Newgate. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. And you are something of a heroine, too. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes.
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