"First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. 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. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone.
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