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Making his way through the tainted crowd, dispersed up and down

this hideous scene of action, with the skill of a man accustomed

to make his way quietly, the messenger found out the door he

sought, and handed in his letter through a trap in it. For,

people then paid to see the play at the Old Bailey, just as they

paid to see the play in Bedlam--only the former entertainment was

much the dearer. Therefore, all the Old Bailey doors were well

guarded--except, indeed, the social doors by which the criminals

got there, and those were always left wide open.

After some delay and demur, the door grudgingly turned on its

hinges a very little way, and allowed Mr. Jerry Cruncher to

squeeze himself into court.

"What's on?" he asked, in a whisper, of the man he found himself

next to.

"Nothing yet."

"What's coming on?"

"The Treason case."

"The quartering one, eh?"