Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. It is difficult to express these things. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. Very few survived her trials. She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry.
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