" "Ha!" exclaimed Jonathan, with a sudden vehemence that electrified the chief turnkey; "what's this! a spike gone! 'Sdeath! the women, you say, have been here. Cautioning the knight, if he valued his neck, to tread carefully, Jonathan then descended a steep flight of steps; and, having reached the bottom in safety, he pushed open a door, that swung back on its hinges as soon as it had admitted him; and, followed by Trenchard, entered the night-cellar. A little within stood a second door, or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes. " "What has he done?" "What did he have to drink over here last night?" "Not even water. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. . I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect.
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