" The stranger was for a moment lost in reflection. 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. The door of cabin 2 was open. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. Fast asleep, he is. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ” She looked at him with uplifted eyebrows—a look of whimsical incredulity. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. . ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively.
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