" In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and handcuffs of all weights and sizes. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door. ’ A radiant smile dawned. I didn't expect you home before that hour, Sir.
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