A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. Courtlaw. “Why?” He inquired. Amidst it all, however, there were several light-hearted and laughing groups walking from cell to cell to whom all this misery appeared matter of amusement. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired.
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