Too bewildered to follow the evidence, he only knows that the chief witness is the worst of the gang, the man who persuaded him into the act, and nothing is clear to him until he hears the foreman of the jury say, "Guilty, my lord," and he sees the judge put on his black cap. He knows then what is going to happen, and trembling from head to foot he awaits the dreadful sentence. Taken back to prison, he is loaded with heavy irons, and led down into a loathsome dungeon, where he finds a number of other convicts; some are swearing or laughing, while one or two appear agonised at the thought of their fate.
On the morning of the execution they have all been brought up into the prison yard, and a hubbub goes on almost as bad as a Jews' market. Loud curses from angry quarrellers, shouts for the pot-boys who scuttle about, pouring out ale and other liquids, blows of the blacksmith's hammer, as he pinions those who are going to suffer. At last all is in readiness, the prisoners have mounted the cart, the Ordinary has got up behind, and Jack Ketch in front; the soldiers press round for fear of a rescue, and the great gates of the prison are swung open.
If it was hubbub within, 'tis the roar of the ocean without. Jack Ketch and his unhappy freight are received with a storm of oaths and coarse ribaldry, in which some of the convicts join for most of them are already half drunk. The sorry procession makes its way through a thick mob, which sways to and fro; the sellers of gin and other liquors bawling loud enough to be heard above the general din. Again and again the hangman's cart stops before a public-house, and while the condemned are taking another draught, the mob rush round them to shake their hands. So eager indeed are the people to show this mark of sympathy, that the struggling and fighting get worse at every stage, until at last the cart is hemmed in. Then heavy blows are struck, pieces of swinging sticks go flying, people are knocked down and trampled under foot, every one gets spattered with blood and dirt; screams groans, and brutal cries of all sorts produce a tumult beyond description.
At last the cavalcade reaches the gallows, around which a number of hackney carriages are assembled. These vehicles have brought or contain the people's betters, who have thus come by
