Mr. Brass rejoined that it would have been well for the
prisoner if he had thought of that before, and was about
to make some other gloomy observations, when the voice
of the single gentleman was heard demanding from above-
stairs what was the matter, and what was the cause of
all that noise and hurry. Kit made an involuntary start
towards the door in his anxiety to answer for himself, but
being speedily detained by the constable, had the agony
of seeing Sampson Brass run out alone to tell the story
in his own way.

"And he can hardly believe it either," said Sampson,
when he returned, "nor nobody will. I wish I could
doubt the evidence of my senses, but their depositions are
unimpeachable. It's of no use cross-examining my eyes,"
cried Sampson, winking and rubbing them, "they stick to
their first account, and will. Now, Sarah, I hear the coach
in the Marks; get on your bonnet, and we'll be off. A sad
errand! a moral funeral, quite!"

"Mr. Brass," said Kit, "do me one favour. Take
me to Mr. Witherden's first."

Sampson shook his head irresolutely.

"Do," said Kit. "My master's there. For Heaven's
sake, take me there first."

"Well, I don't know," stammered Brass, who perhaps
had his reasons for wishing to show as fair as possible in
the eyes of the notary. "How do we stand in point of
time, constable, eh?"

The constable, who had been chewing a straw all this
while with great philosophy, replied that if they went
away at once they would have time enough, but that if
they stood shilly-shallying there any longer they must go
straight to the Mansion House; and finally expressed his
opinion that that was where it was, and that was all about
it.

Mr. Richard Swiveller having arrived inside the coach,
and still remaining immoveable in the most commodious
corner with his face to the horses, Mr. Brass instructed
the officer to remove his prisoner, and declared himself
quite ready. Therefore the constable, still holding Kit
in the same manner, and pushing him on a little before him,
so as to keep him at about three-quarters of an arm's
length in advance (which is the professional mode), thrust
him into the vehicle and followed himself. Miss Sally
entered next; and there being now four inside, Sampson

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