, which was held in one of the most ghastly rooms of
Newgate.

No more miserable place could be found outside the jail, and it could
only be surpassed in horror by one within. It might have been, and
probably was, an anteroom to hell, but of that I say nothing. I leave
my description, for I can do no more justice to it. The only cheerful
thing about it was Dr. Bernard himself. He was totally unconcerned
with the danger of his situation, and regarded himself as a hero of
the first order. Murder, hanging, guillotine--all seemed to be the
everyday chances of life, and to him there was nothing sweeter or more
desirable, if you might judge by his demeanour.

I thought it well to mention the fact that, if the jury found him
guilty, Lord Campbell would certainly sentence him to death. He
exhibited no emotion whatever, but shrugging his shoulders after the
manner of a Frenchman who differed from you in opinion, said,--

"Well, if I am hanged, I must be hanged, that is all."

With a man like him it was impossible to argue or ask for
explanations. He seemed to be possessed with the one idea that to
remedy all the grievances of the State it was merely necessary to blow
up the Emperor with his horses and carriage, and coolly informed us,
without the least reserve, that the bombs manufactured with this
political object had been sent over to Paris from England concealed
in firkins of butter. I can find no words in which to express my
feelings.

So ended our first consultation. The "merits" of the case were gone;
there was no defence. But whatever might be our opinion on Dr.
Bernard's state of mind, we could not abandon him to his fate. We
were retained to defend him, and defend him we must, even in spite of
himself, if we could do so consistently with our professional honour
and duty.

Accordingly we had another consultation, and as I have said there was
one other room in England more ghastly than that where we held our
first interview, so now I reluctantly introduce you to it.

If a man about to be tried for his life could look on this apartment
and its horrors unmoved, he would certainly be a fit subject for the
attentions of the hangman, and deserving of no human sympathy. It was
enough to shake the nerves of the hangman himself.

We were in an apartment on the north-east side of the quadrangular
building, where the sunshine never entered. Even daylight never came,
but only a feeble, sickening twilight, precursor of the