The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. She still had her letter of credit. The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. Let him be sure. ‘I left a message at home that he should do so as soon as he returned from Kent.
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