At the time of this
story there were some courts in Liverpool which at night-time were
absolutely in the dark. Not a single ray of gaslight illuminated them.
The doers of evil liked such places; and the courts at nightfall were
often full, and sounds the reverse of edifying were apt to proceed
from them.
David Street, the short cut which Dent was about to take to keep his
rendezvous with Granger, possessed several such courts. It was not far
from the Irish quarter, where Mother Bunch held undoubted sway. David
Street was not quite so much dreaded as Paradise Bow; but, on account
of these same dark courts, few respectable people would care to walk
there after nightfall. Dent, however, could scarcely be reckoned amongst
this class, and he stepped quickly now through the na'rrow street with
its flickering gaslight reflecting a sombre glow on the puddles at his
feet, and on the faces of the ragged children and men and women who
jostled past him. The only bright places were the public-houses, where
the hungriest and most despairing paused to look in and long for the
brightness and warmth inside.
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