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ToC "At length this tragedy is at an end," said Mr. Brendon suggests supper at the Carlton. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. ‘She’s still bleeding. "And yet—but it is only part of the chain of ill-luck that seems wound around me. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him.
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