The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player.
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