, we had duly surrendered to trial, after
the jury's disagreement we really stood in a better position than
before, and there was not the slightest reason to suppose that we might
abscond. On the other hand, it was clear that we were fighting against
long odds. The rich City Corporation was prosecuting us regardless
of expense, and their case was conducted by three of the most skilful
lawyers in London. Reason, justice and humanity, alike demanded that we
should enjoy freedom and comfort while marshalling our resources for a
fresh battle. Judge North, however, thought otherwise; in his opinion we
required a different kind of "opportunity." He locked us up in a prison
cell, excluded us from light and air, deprived us of all communication
with each other, and debarred us from all intercourse with the outside
world except during fifteen minutes each day through an iron grating.
Such malignity is an unpardonable crime in a judge. There may have been
some bad criminals in Newgate when I entered it, but I would rather have
embraced the worst of them than have touched the hand of Judge North.

CHAPTER VIII. NEWGATE.

The subterranean passage through which Mr. Ramsey, Mr. Kemp, Mr.
Cattell, and I were conducted from the Old Bailey dock to Newgate
prison, was long and tortuous, and two or three massive doors were
unlocked and relocked for our transit before we emerged into the
courtyard. In the darkness the lofty walls looked grimly frowning, and
I imagined what feelings must possess the ordinary criminal who passes
under their black shadow to his first night's taste of imprisonment.
Another massive door was opened in the wall of Newgate, and we were
ushered into what at first sight appeared a large hall. It was really
the interior of the prison. Glancing up, I saw dimly-lighted corridors,
running round tier on tier of cell-doors, and connected by light,
graceful staircases; a clear view of every door being commanded from the
office at the west end of the ground-floor.

We were invited one by one into a side office, where we inscribed our
names in a big book. A dapper little officer, who treated me with a
queer mixture of authority and respectfulness, wrote out my description
as though he were filling in a passport. I was very much amused, and
finding he was not too precise in his observations, I corrected and
supplemented them in a good-humored manner.

After completing this task he requested me to deliver up the c