Children of clergy -- Fiction; Christian fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
Without another word he gave me his arm, and down the court we went, past
the flaring gin-shop, and into the gloom beyond. It was one of those places
of which, while the general effect remains vivid in one's mind, the salient
points are so few that it is difficult to say much by way of description.
The houses had once been occupied by people in better circumstances than
its present inhabitants; and indeed they looked all decent enough until,
turning two right angles, we came upon another sort. They were still as
large, and had plenty of windows; but, in the light of a single lamp at
the corner, they looked very dirty and wretched and dreary. A little shop,
with dried herrings and bull's-eyes in the window, was lighted by a tallow
candle set in a ginger-beer bottle, with a card of "Kinahan's LL Whiskey"
for a reflector.
"They can't have many customers to the extent of a bottle," said Roger.
"But no doubt they have some privileges from the public-house at the corner
for hanging up the card."
The houses had sunk areas, just wide enough for a stair, and the basements
seemed full of tenants. There was a little wind blowing, so that the
atmosphere was tolerable, notwithstanding a few stray leaves of cabbage,
suggestive of others in a more objectionable condition not far off.
A confused noise of loud voices, calling and scolding, hitherto drowned by
the tumult of the street, now reached our ears. The place took one turn
more, and then the origin of it became apparent. At the farther end of the
passage was another lamp, the light of which shone upon a group of men and
women, in altercation, which had not yet come to blows. It might, including
children, have numbered twenty, of which some seemed drunk, and all more or
less excited. Roger turned to go back the moment he caught sight of them;
but I felt inclined, I hardly knew why, to linger a little. Should any
danger offer, it would be easy to gain the open thoroughfare.
"It's not at all a fit place for a lady," he said.
"Certainly not," I answered; "it hardly seems a fit place for human beings.
These are human beings, though. Let us go through it."
He still hesitated; but as I went on, he could but follow me. I wanted to
see what the attracting centre of the little crowd was; and that it must
be occupied with some affair of more than ordinary interest, I judged from
the fact that a good many superterrestrial spectators looked down from
the windows at various elevations upon the disputants, whose voices now
and then lulled for a moment only to break out in fresh objurgation and
dispute.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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