I borrowed forty pounds from Mr. Spurling, formerly, it may be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at Queenhithe,—whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high prices, throughout the prison, which in noise and debauchery rivalled, if it did not surpass, the lowest tavern. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. "You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith.
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