were presenting themselves to his young friend, proceeded to give him
the needful credentials and directions for his first visit, which was
to be made next morning; and all preliminaries being arranged, and the
strictest secrecy enjoined, Nicholas walked home for the night very
thoughtfully indeed.

The place to which Mr Cheeryble had directed him was a row of mean and
not over-cleanly houses, situated within 'the Rules' of the King's
Bench Prison, and not many hundred paces distant from the obelisk in St
George's Fields. The Rules are a certain liberty adjoining the prison,
and comprising some dozen streets in which debtors who can raise money
to pay large fees, from which their creditors do NOT derive any benefit,
are permitted to reside by the wise provisions of the same enlightened
laws which leave the debtor who can raise no money to starve in jail,
without the food, clothing, lodging, or warmth, which are provided
for felons convicted of the most atrocious crimes that can disgrace
humanity. There are many pleasant fictions of the law in constant
operation, but there is not one so pleasant or practically humorous as
that which supposes every man to be of equal value in its impartial
eye, and the benefits of all laws to be equally attainable by all men,
without the smallest reference to the furniture of their pockets.

To the row of houses indicated to him by Mr Charles Cheeryble, Nicholas
directed his steps, without much troubling his head with such matters
as these; and at this row of houses--after traversing a very dirty
and dusty suburb, of which minor theatricals, shell-fish, ginger-beer,
spring vans, greengrocery, and brokers' shops, appeared to compose
the main and most prominent features--he at length arrived with a
palpitating heart. There were small gardens in front which, being wholly
neglected in all other respects, served as little pens for the dust to
collect in, until the wind came round the corner and blew it down the
road. Opening the rickety gate which, dangling on its broken hinges
before one of these, half admitted and half repulsed the visitor,
Nicholas knocked at the street door with a faltering hand.

It was in truth a shabby house outside, with very dim parlour windows
and very small show of blinds, and very dirty muslin curtains dangling
across the lower panes on very loose and limp strings. Neither, when the
door was opened, did the inside appear to belie the outward promise,
as there was