She looked up, and recognized Mr. 8 or 1. Restraining with an effort his intense curiosity, he talked of general subjects only, trying his best to entertain her. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. "At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed. For some time after he was locked up in this prison Jack continued in a very dejected state.
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