Dismissing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the escape. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. Notwithstanding the heat of the season,—which was not, however, found particularly inconvenient in this subterranean region,—a large heaped-up fire blazed ruddily in one corner, and lighted up a circle of as villanous countenances as ever flame shone upon. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge.
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