And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. You must come back. It was clear it must be to-morrow. ’ ‘Ha! You’re Catholic, too, damn his eyes,’ growled the general.
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