I beat loudly at the door; I shouted out,—no answer; the scuffle within seemed to increase. I saw a small blind alley to the left; one of the unfortunate women to whom such places are homes was standing in it.
"What possibility is there of entering the house?" I asked.
"Oh!" said she, "it does not matter; it is not the first time gentlemen have cut each other's throats /there/."
"What! is it a house of bad repute?"
"Yes; and where there are bullies who wear knives, and take purses, as well as ladies who—"
"Good heavens!" cried I, interrupting her, "there is no time to be lost.
Is there no way of entrance but at this door?"
"Yes, if you are bold enough to enter at another!"
"Where?"
"Down this alley."
Immediately I entered the alley; the woman pointed to a small, dark, narrow flight of stairs; I ascended; the sounds increased in loudness. I mounted to the second flight; a light streamed from a door; the clashing of swords was distinctly audible within; I broke open the door, and found myself a witness and intruder on a scene at once ludicrous and fearful.