We need not give any detailed description of Charley's prison-house. He was luckily not detained there so long as to make it necessary that we should become acquainted with his fellow-captives, or even have much intercourse with his jailers. He was taken to the sponging-house, and it was there imparted to him that he had better send for two things--first of all for money, which was by far the more desirable of the two; and secondly, for bail, which even if forthcoming was represented as being at best but a dubious advantage. 'There's Mrs. Davis, she'd bail you, of course, and willing,' said the bailiff. 'Mrs. Davis!' said Charley, surprised that the man should know aught of his personal acquaintances. 'Yes, Mrs. Davis of the 'Cat and Whistle.' She'd do it in course, along of Miss Geraghty.' Charley perceived with a shudder that his matrimonial arrangements were known and talked of even in the distant world of Cursitor Street. He declined, however, the assistance of the landlady, which no doubt would have been willingly forthcoming, and was divided between his three friends, Alaric, Harry, and Mr. M'Ruen. Alaric was his cousin and his natural resource in such a position, but he had lately rejected Alaric's advice, and now felt a disinclination to call upon him in his difficulty. Harry he knew would assist him, would at once pay Mr. Outerman's bill, and relieve him from all immediate danger; but the sense of what he already owed to Norman made him unwilling to incur further obligations;--so he decided on sending for Mr. M'Ruen. In spite of his being so poorly supplied with immediate cash, it was surmised from his appearance, clothes, and known rank, that any little outlay made in his behalf would be probably repaid, and he was therefore furnished with a messenger on credit. This man was first to call at Mr. M'Ruen's with a note, and then to go to Charley's lodgings and get his brushes, razors, &c., these being the first necessaries of life for which a man naturally looks when once overtaken by such a misfortune as that with which Charley was now afflicted. In the process of time the brushes and razors came, and so did Mr. M'Ruen. 'This is very kind of you,' said Charley, in rather a doleful voice, for he was already becoming tired of Cursitor Street. Mr. M'Ruen twisted his head round inside his cravat, and put out three fingers by way of shaking hands with the prisoner. 'You seem pretty comfortable here,' said M'Ruen. Charley dissented to this, and said that he was extremely uncomfortable. 'And what is it that I can do for you, Mr. Tudor?' said M'Ruen. 'Do for me! Why, bail me, to be sure; they won't let me out unless somebody bails me. You know I shan't run away.' 'Bail you!' said M'Ruen. 'Yes, bail me,' said Charley. 'You don't mean to say that you have any objection?'