"I thought I heard a scream. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. He brought me past this house, and I thought I would call and leave your brother’s letter. However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD.
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