Newgate Prison is the gaol across the street from the Old Bailey Courthouse. Originally located at the site of an old Roman wall in London, it has been demolished and rebuilt several times by several kings, as well as used for various purposes. Currently, however, it houses criminals of every kind, though the majority of those inside its walls are criminals awaiting execution and debtors unable to pay their accounts.

Occupants of the prison are not provided with bedding or clothing (they are expected to purchase these things from the wardens) and must pay heavy fines upon entering and exiting the prison. It is a most unpleasant place to be.

http://i383.photobucket.com/albums/oo278/civilwarchick/Houses/Newgate_prison_large.jpg

"Get down, bastard!" Juan was thrown roughly onto the cold ground, hit the cement with a rough thud. He tried to lift his head blearily, found he couldn't without having pain surge through him, stayed still on the ground and glanced towards the barred door where two men waited, grinning.

"You thought you could get away, did ya? Wrong, senor." He snickered, kicked the highwayman's side. Juan shuddered, let out a whimper resembling that of a dog that had been kicked multiple times. "You're going to be executed for your crimes. Have fun." The door slammed shut and he listened to their footsteps as they left, immobilized by the pain running through his head and sides.

They had knocked him unconscious with a blow to the back of the head, then trimmed his hair until it hung in filthy strands of various lengths, and he had been kicked, humiliated, and disgraced in every way possible. He shuddered, cold, and tried to sleep.

Helen practically dragged Matthew along behind the warden, her pretty new gown dragging in the filth and slime of the prison floor.

Though hesitant to enter the prison Matthew did not see a gentlemanly way out of it. Following behind he tried to look nonchalant while watching his steps to avoid the worst of it.

Criminals and poor souls reached out from the bars of their cells, begging Helen for a ha'penny or a bit of bread. Normally, she would have stopped and given the entire contents of her reticule to these unfortunates, but she had other matters on her mind this time. She matched her strides with that of the enormously tall warden, all the while holding insistently to Matthew's arm, as though bent on punishing him for his misdeeds.

Wondering how he might loosen Helen's grip he leaned in and asked "Are you quite certain you wish to do this?"

"Quite," Helen said firmly.

((Yes. I'm stalling to see if Fern comes before I head to bed.))

"You have a visitor, Esada.", The warden spat, stepping to the side. Juan looked up from where he lay in the corner, filthy and covered in dirt, dust, and blood.

"..Helen..?"

Helen took one look at him and ran to the bars of the cell, the iron rods clanging as she took ahold of them. "Juan!"

"...Are...Are you alright, Helen?" He attempted getting up and regretted the descision almost immediately.

"Yes," said Helen, peering squintily into the dark cell. "How are you?"

"...Not so well...Helen...I..I will remember you for as long as I live.."

"You poor man," Helen said sympathetically. "You're quite delirious."

"No...I'm not...I love you, Helen."

The warden walked away laughing hysterically, and Helen bit her lip. "Juan," she said gently, "this is Mr. Matthew Suft."

"You..." He spat, "What did you do to her?"

"Juan!" Helen exclaimed.

((And...now we wait.))

Matthew who had stepped back from the grotesque sight of Juan now came forward. "I have nothing to her, but treat her as the lady she is." Matthew replied looking down his nose at the filth.

"Liar! What did you do to her?!" He forced himself to sit up, eyes watering with pain and slight delerium.

Ignoring him Matthew turned to Helen "Let us go now. It is evident this man has lost his mind. There can be nothing left for you to see."

"Most certainly not, Mr. Suft," Helen declared. "If anyone's out of their minds, it's myself - this is partly my fault, and I have an obligation to try and make amends. And I insist you stay here with me. It's also partly your fault, you know."

Juan looked up at her. "It's...not...your...fault..."

Matthew wished nothing more than to leave this disgusting environment and return his immaculate home. Unfortunately he could think of no way to dissuade Helen and could not leave her here alone. Trying hard not to breath he watched the unfolding scene.

"Don't try to be noble on my account, Juan," Helen said gently. "I know it's my fault. You needn't try to sweeten the medicine. It's already bad enough that you - " She stopped and swallowed. "Well, don't worry about me."

"I-" He broke into a violent spasm of coughing, continued, eyes bleary and vertigo searing through him, "--am...fine, Helen....I want you to be safe. I'm okay with whatever happens now..."

The sound of Juan's hacking cough brought tears to Helen's eyes. "There, there, don't get yourself all distressed."

"I...I'm not..." He laid back down.

"Juan!"

At Helen's shout Matthew rushed forward "What is it? What has happened?"

"I...I'm fine...Just a little...tired.."

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