The old man always plodding on before, turned round, in his slow, stiff, stooping manner, when they came to the turnkey on duty, as if to present his companion.

The turnkey nodded; and the companion passed in without being asked whom he wanted.
The night was dark; and the prison lamps in the yard, and the candles in the prison windows faintly shining behind many sorts of wry old curtain and blind, had not the air of making it lighter.

A few people loitered about, but the greater part of the population was within doors.

The old man, taking the right-hand side of the yard, turned in at the third or fourth doorway, and began to ascend the stairs.

'They are rather dark, sir, but you will not find anything in the way.' He paused for a moment before opening a door on the second story.