Half a dozen drunken Irishmen were playing poker with a pack of greasy cards in an out-house.

He led her up the rickety ladder to the one room, where a flaring tallow-dip threw a saffron glare into the darkness.

A putrid odour met them at the door.

She drew back, trembling.
"Come here!" he said, fiercely, clutching her hand.

"Women as fair and pure as you have come into dens like this,--and never gone away.