But we're neglecting the punch all this time. He went to the door. The night was now profoundly dark. Above was a spacious hall, connected with it by a flight of stone steps, at the further end of which stood an immense grated door, called in the slang of the place "The Jigger," through the bars of which the felons in the upper wards were allowed to converse with their friends, or if they wished to enter the room, or join the revellers below, they were at liberty to do so, on payment of a small fine. ’ I said. It wouldn’t be you. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife.
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