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The vast area in front of Westminster Hall was thronged with people, and it was only by a vigorous application of their staves that the constables could force a passage for the vehicle. Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distributing the Marquis's donation, affected to throw the remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the steps, unlocked the door. " "Pray cease this nonsense," said Winifred, "and quit the room, or I will call for assistance. She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally. “It’s—private. "The intelligence seems new to you. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. It was hard to resist. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. .

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