He lit a cigarette and loitered about. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. Hark ye, Blueskin," continued he, addressing that personage, who, in obedience to his commands, had, with great promptitude, driven out the rabble, and again secured the door, "a word in your ear. "And, now,—to Newgate. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole.
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