A Woman of Culture, Chapter XII-XIV [pp. 771-801]

780 A WOMAAr OF CUiTUFE. [Mar.,
"The devil of the storm shouting his orders, I suppose," Quip
answered in a tone purposely serious and broken. "If he is anywhere in the city, he is in this street now. It is a terrible place,
Billy."
"In what way, Jack?"
His voice was become tremulous. The mysterious sounds of
the night, the darkness, the ne~ghborhood, which Mr. Quip's solemn mai~ner and words had suddenly invested with a painful in.
terest, had set him shivering. Before replying Mr. Quip looked
impressively up and down the street. Very little of its real char.
acter was visible, but what could be seen was most ill-favored.
The houses were for the most part low rookeries inclined at every
possible angle, and threatening the lives of the dwellers and pass.
ers-by. Shutters, when they hung anywhere, were never closed,
but rattled and screaked and banged incessantly. So little of
glass was left in the windows, and so many opaque substances
had supplied its place, that lights could be seen only at long intervals, the feeble glimmer of a poor fire or poorer candle indi.
eating the poverty of those within.
"In the wickedest way, Billy," said Mr. Quip, after a pause
sufficiently lon~ to allow of his former remark making a due impression on Juniper's heated imagination. "If a mark were put
upon every house in this street where a murder had been done,
not one would escape save this we are standing by. Crime lurks
everywhere. That house opposite is a shelter for every criminal
in the city while the officers are after him. Look at that fellow
stealing out now. Night, and such a night as this, is the only
time he would dare to venture forth. Perhaps he is stained with
blood or with a lesser crime. The lake is below us, and an old
wharf lies there. It has not been used for years except by the
unfortunate who looks for rest in the waters under it. Sometimes a girl is found floating there with her hair twisted around
the rotten beams; sometimes a poor fellow with his head battered in. I was there myself (~ne mofl~ing after a meeting. It
was four o'clock, and there was a heavy fog out. I saw the harbor police busy about something, and I went down to look on.
They were dragging out a poor devil, stiff and water-soaked. I
can see him yet with his fingers clutching at nothing and his
eyes full of the slime of the lake. It beat the dissecting~room, I
tell you. There! do you hear that yell? It was a woman, and
one that won't be alive to-morrow, I'll warrant. Ah! look, there
she comes."
As he yet spoke a door not far distant opened. A woman