Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. She let them fall and sped to the companion, where she stood for a moment, the moonlight giving her a celestial touch. 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. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. The door leaned inward.
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