And he had good reason before long to congratulate himself on his forbearance. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. ” “Upon my word,” he declared, “you are right. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. He looked distant, irritated.
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