"The night-house where all kind of low people meet to sup and lodge," was the reply. "But here we are—and you'll see all about it in an instant." They had stopped at the door of a house with an area protected by thick wooden palings. All the upper part of the dwelling appeared to be involved in total darkness: but lights streamed through the chinks of the rude shutters of the area-windows; and from the same direction emanated boisterous merriment, coarse laughter, and wild hurrahs. "You knock at the door, sir, if you please," said the policeman, "while I stand aside. I'll slip in after you; for if they twig my coat, and Tidkins really happens to be there, they'd give him the office to bolt before we could get in." "Well thought of," returned Markham. "But upon what plea am I to claim admittance?" "As a stranger, impelled by curiosity. You carry the silver key in your pocket." The policeman withdrew a few paces; and our hero knocked boldly at the door. A gruff voice challenged the visitor from the area. "Who's here?" "No one that will do you any harm," replied Richard. "I am anxious to witness the interior of this establishment; and here is half-a-crown for you if you can gratify my curiosity." "That's English, any how," said the voice, softening in its tone. "Stop a minute." Markham heard a door close in the area below; and in a few moments the bolts were drawn back inside the one at which he was standing. "Now then, my ben-cull—in with you," said a man, as he opened the front door, and held a candle high up above his head at the same time. Markham stepped into a narrow passage, and placed his foot against the door in such a way as to keep it open. But the precaution was unnecessary, for the policeman had glided in almost simultaneously with himself. "Now, no noise, old feller," said the constable, in a hasty whisper to the man who had opened the door: "our business isn't with any of your set." "Wery good," returned the porter of Rats' Castle: "you know best—it isn't for me to say nothink." "Go first, sir," whispered the officer to Markham. "You seem to know _him_ better than me, for I never saw him but once—and then only for a minute or two." "Which way?" demanded Richard. "Straight on—and then down stairs. You keep behind us, old feller," added the policeman, turning to the porter. Markham descended a flight of narrow and precipitate steps, and at the bottom found himself in a large room formed of two kitchens thrown into one. Two long tables running parallel to each other the entire length of the place, were laid out for supper,—the preparations consisting of a number of greasy napkins spread upon either board, and decorated with knives and forks all chained to the tables. Iron plates to eat off, galley-pots and chipped tea-cups filled with salt, three or four pepper-boxes, and two small stone jars containing mustard, completed the preparations for the evening meal.