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. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. Come along, master. ’ ‘Quite right, Gerald,’ approved Lucilla.
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