The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 194: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE GIBBET , 177 come? Has he opened the packet? Does it contain the reprieve? ”’ “Tt cannot possibly be anything else,” returned the gov- ernor. ‘“ The sheriff will not be here till a quarter to eight, nor will he open the packet in my presence. I dare not even ask him what it contains, but I have not the slightest — no, not the slightest doubt — ”’ “What o’clock is 1t now?’’ demanded the criminal, hurriedly. “ Half-past seven. Will you take some breakfast? In- deed, you must appear as if you anticipated the very worst,” said the governor, with marked emphasis. “Since I have nothing to apprehend, I can assume an air which shall pass for firmness,’ replied Dysart. ‘ Yes, let me have some breakfast; it will warm me.” Leaving the interior of the prison for a few moments, we will again glance to the aspect of the scene outside. The morning was dull and gloomy, and soon after the break of day, a fine mizzling rain had begun to fall. The crowd was immense. To the farther extremity of the Old Bailey in the one direction, and to the very verge of Smith- field market on the other, it was a complete ocean of human faces. Men and women, — numbers of the latter with young children in their arms, — boys and girls, even of a tender age, all were packed as densely as the aggregation of such a mass of life could possibly become. Every window and housetop commanding a view of the gaol’s front and the looming gallows had been put into requisition by the anxious spectators. Precisely opposite the gibbet, a first-floor apartment was tenanted for the nonce by the aristocrats who had passed the night at the Saracen’s Head; and having well breakfasted off devilled kidneys, coffee, and toast, these worthies found themselves in an excellent humour to enjoy the drama about to be enacted. At a quarter to eight one of the sheriffs, the two under- sherifis, and a couple of aldermen arrived at the gaol. They were immediately ushered into the governor’s drawing-room, and the sealed packet from the Home Office was delivered to the sheriff. He at once retired into a private room to open it, and having perused the contents, which were laconic enough, he carefully consigned the despatch to his pocket. On returning to the drawing-room, his countenance, re- ECORNICLOO© Ss (SO)