and
thirty-four pounds for seventeen assaults at forty shillings a-head, with
liberty to speak to the prosecutors.

The prosecutors _were_ spoken to, and Messrs. Potter and Smithers lived
on credit, for a quarter, as best they might; and, although the
prosecutors expressed their readiness to be assaulted twice a week, on
the same terms, they have never since been detected in 'making a night of
it.'

CHAPTER XII--THE PRISONERS' VAN

We were passing the corner of Bow-street, on our return from a lounging
excursion the other afternoon, when a crowd, assembled round the door of
the Police-office, attracted our attention. We turned up the street
accordingly. There were thirty or forty people, standing on the pavement
and half across the road; and a few stragglers were patiently stationed
on the opposite side of the way--all evidently waiting in expectation of
some arrival. We waited too, a few minutes, but nothing occurred; so, we
turned round to an unshorn, sallow-looking cobbler, who was standing next
us with his hands under the bib of his apron, and put the usual question
of 'What's the matter?' The cobbler eyed us from head to foot, with
superlative contempt, and laconically replied 'Nuffin.'

Now, we were perfectly aware that if two men stop in the street to look
at any given object, or even to gaze in the air, two hundred men will be
assembled in no time; but, as we knew very well that no crowd of people
could by possibility remain in a street for five minutes without getting
up a little amusement among themselves, unless they had some absorbing
object in view, the natural inquiry next in order was, 'What are all
these people waiting here for?'--'Her Majesty's carriage,' replied the
cobbler. This was still more extraordinary. We could not imagine what
earthly business Her Majesty's carriage could have at the Public Office,
Bow-street. We were beginning to ruminate on the possible causes of such
an uncommon appearance, when a general exclamation from all the boys in
the crowd of 'Here's the wan!' caused us to raise our heads, and look up
the street.

The covered vehicle, in which prisoners are conveyed from the
police-offices to the different prisons, was coming along at full speed.
It then occurred to us, for the first time, that Her Majesty's carriage
was merely another name for the prisoners' van, conferred upon it, not
only by reason of the superior gentility of the term, but because the
aforesaid