His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. " So saying, he descended a short spiral staircase, and, entering a long stone gallery, from which several other passages branched, took one of them, and after various turnings—for he was familiar with all the intricacies of the prison— arrived at the cell of which he was in search.
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