“Here, my boy, take yer blanket,” said Daley; and throwing him a coarse, filthy-looking blanket, told him to roll it up and follow him. “It's on the second floor we'll put ye, among the stewards; there's a nice lot on 'em to keep yer company, and ye'll have a jolly time, my boy.” Manuel followed through the second iron door until he came to a large door secured with heavy bolts and bars, which Daley began to withdraw and unlock. “Don't be takin' it amiss; it's a right good crib, savin' the' bed, an' it's that's the worst of it. Bad luck to old Grimshaw, an' himself thinks everybody's bones be's as tuf as his own,” said Daley, and threw open the heavy doors, sending forth those ominous prison sounds. “All here? Ah! yer a pretty set of lambs, as the British consul calls yees. Have ye ever a drop to spare?” At this, three or four respectable-looking black men came to the door and greeted Manuel. “Come, talk her out, for th' auld man'll be on the scent.” At this, one of the confined stewards, a tall, good-looking mulatto man, ran his hand into a large opening in the wall, and drew forth a little soda-bottle filled with Monongahela whisky. Without giving reasonable time for politeness, Daley seized the bottle, and putting it to his mouth, gauged about half its contents into his homony dept, smacked his lips, wiped his mouth with his cuff, and, passing the balance back, shut and rebolted the door, after saying, “Good luck till yees, an' I wish yees a merry time.” The reader may imagine what provision the State or the sheriff had made for the comfort of these poor men, one of whom was imprisoned because it was “contrary to law” to be driven into the port of Charleston in distress, and the rest, peaceable, unoffending citizens belonging to distant States and countries, and guilty of no crime, when we describe the room and regimen to which they were subjected. The room was about twenty-six feet long and ten feet wide. The brick walls were plastered and colored with some kind of blue wash, which, however, was so nearly obliterated with dirt and the damp of a southern climate, as to leave but little to show what its original color was. The walls were covered with the condensed moisture of the atmosphere, spiders hung their festooned network overhead, and cockroaches and ants, those domesticated pests of South Carolina, were running about the floor in swarms, and holding all legal rights to rations in superlative contempt. Two small apertures in the wall, about fourteen inches square, and double-barred with heavy flat iron, served to admit light and air. The reader may thus judge of its gloomy appearance, and what a miserable unhealthy cell it must have been in which to place men just arrived from sea. There was not the first vestige of furniture in the room, not; even a bench to sit upon, for the State, with its gracious hospitality, forgot that men in jail ever sit down; but it was in keeping with all