Don’t take my word for it though. When he faced Spurlock, the granite was cracked and rived; never had Spurlock seen such dumb agony in human eyes. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. He seemed to deliberate.
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