. ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. Spurlock went, it would not be far enough. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. Spurlock: 'tis Roundhead, sure enough. I've a lot of old magazines, too. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did. ” The cab rumbled off.
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