” Sebastian drove on. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. ‘For my money, you’ll not get much out of old Jarvis either. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last.
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