peremptory tone of voice. "What
do you mean by dowsing the glim?"

Thieves' argot was, evidently, well understood here, for there was a
shuffle in the dark, a muttered voice, and someone lit a candle. Calton
saw that the light was held by an elfish-looking child. Tangled masses
of black hair hung over her scowling white face. As she crouched down
on the floor against the damp wall she looked up defiantly yet
fearfully at the detective.

"Where's Mother Guttersnipe?" asked Kilsip, touching her with his foot.

She seemed to resent the indignity, and rose quickly to her feet.

"Upstairs," she replied, jerking her head in the direction of the right
wall.

Following her direction, Calton--his eyes now somewhat accustomed to
the gloom--could discern a gaping black chasm, which he presumed was
the stair alluded to.

"Yer won't get much out of 'er to-night; she's a-going to start 'er
booze, she is."

"Never mind what she's doing or about to do," said Kilsip, sharply,
"take me to her at once."

The girl looked him sullenly up and down, then she led the way into the
black chasm and up the stairs. They were so shaky as to make Calton
fear they might give way. As they toiled slowly up the broken steps he
held tightly to his companion's arm. At last they stopped at a door
through the cracks of which a faint glimmer of light was to be seen.
Here the girl gave a shrill whistle, and the door opened. Still
preceded by their elfish guide, Calton and the detective stepped
through the doorway. A curious scene was before them. A small square
room, with a low roof, from which the paper mildewed and torn hung in
shreds; on the left hand, at the far end, was a kind of low stretcher,
upon which a woman, almost naked, lay, amid a heap of greasy clothes.
She appeared to be ill, for she kept tossing her head from side to side
restlessly, and every now and then sang snatches of song in a cracked
voice. In the centre of the room was a rough deal table, upon which
stood a guttering tallow candle, which but faintly illuminated the
scene, and a half empty rectangular bottle of Schnapps, with a broken
cup beside it. In front of these signs of festivity sat an old woman
with a pack of cards spread out before her, and from which she had
evidently been telling the fortune of a villainous-looking young man
who had opened the door, and who stood looking at the detective with no
very friendly expression of countenance. He wore a greasy brown velvet