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Whatever he did, she was bound to scream. Above was a spacious hall, connected with it by a flight of stone steps, at the further end of which stood an immense grated door, called in the slang of the place "The Jigger," through the bars of which the felons in the upper wards were allowed to converse with their friends, or if they wished to enter the room, or join the revellers below, they were at liberty to do so, on payment of a small fine. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. Clearing the recess the instant after his companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and, locking it, took out the key. Capes flashed to an understanding of her intention, sprang to his feet, and opened the door for her retreat. Roused by Ben's warning, the carpenter looked up and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge looming through the darkness, and rendered indistinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from the windows of the lofty houses. She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. But you want one quality, without which all others are valueless.
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