The chief scene of these disgusting orgies,—the cellar, just referred to,—was a large low-roofed vault, about four feet below the level of the street, perfectly dark, unless when illumined by a roaring fire, and candles stuck in pyramidal lumps of clay, with a range of butts and barrels at one end, and benches and tables at the other, where the prisoners, debtors, and malefactors male and female, assembled as long as their money lasted, and consumed the time in drinking, smoking, and gaming with cards and dice. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. " Quitting the night-cellar, the trio soon arrived at the riverside.
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