Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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When the outer door was shut and locked the vehicle proceeded on its journey.

His companions in misfortune or crime—​whichever of the two it might be—​did not appear to be so depressed, so moody, and so thoughtful, as our hero.

He heard the sound of their voices in his narrow compartment.

Some were calling to each other by name, it might be said, in a jocund and familiar manner. Mr. Green’s voice was distinctly audible above the hubbub of the rest.

“He’s a sharp sort of a chap that gipsy,” murmured Peace. “I should have liked t’other cove to have time to tell his tale. Ah, this is a bad business. What a spiteful, vindictive old cat!”

This last observation of course referred to the relentless Mrs. Pocklington, from whom he could not Hope to secure clemency. He was perfectly well assured that she would “prosecute to the utmost rigour of the law,” to quote the words so often to be seen on warning sign-posts.

On arriving in the court-yard of the county gaol, the prisoners were marshalled in a narrow-vaulted passage, where they were made to stand in a row.