In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up. “I am very glad that you have come here. But the five per cent. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. Why should you wish to forget it? Unless it is that you did not enjoy it. About nine o'clock, an immense mob collected before the Lodge at Newgate.
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