s hand. As there was a stream of people pouring into
a shabby house not far from the entrance, he waited until they had made
their way in, and then making up to the servant, ventured to inquire if
he knew where Mr Gregsbury lived.

The servant was a very pale, shabby boy, who looked as if he had slept
underground from his infancy, as very likely he had. 'Mr Gregsbury?'
said he; 'Mr Gregsbury lodges here. It's all right. Come in!'

Nicholas thought he might as well get in while he could, so in he
walked; and he had no sooner done so, than the boy shut the door, and
made off.

This was odd enough: but what was more embarrassing was, that all along
the passage, and all along the narrow stairs, blocking up the window,
and making the dark entry darker still, was a confused crowd of
persons with great importance depicted in their looks; who were, to all
appearance, waiting in silent expectation of some coming event. From
time to time, one man would whisper his neighbour, or a little group
would whisper together, and then the whisperers would nod fiercely to
each other, or give their heads a relentless shake, as if they were bent
upon doing something very desperate, and were determined not to be put
off, whatever happened.

As a few minutes elapsed without anything occurring to explain this
phenomenon, and as he felt his own position a peculiarly uncomfortable
one, Nicholas was on the point of seeking some information from the man
next him, when a sudden move was visible on the stairs, and a voice was
heard to cry, 'Now, gentleman, have the goodness to walk up!'

So far from walking up, the gentlemen on the stairs began to walk down
with great alacrity, and to entreat, with extraordinary politeness, that
the gentlemen nearest the street would go first; the gentlemen nearest
the street retorted, with equal courtesy, that they couldn't think of
such a thing on any account; but they did it, without thinking of it,
inasmuch as the other gentlemen pressing some half-dozen (among whom was
Nicholas) forward, and closing up behind, pushed them, not merely up the
stairs, but into the very sitting-room of Mr Gregsbury, which they were
thus compelled to enter with most unseemly precipitation, and without
the means of retreat; the press behind them, more than filling the
apartment.

'Gentlemen,' said Mr Gregsbury, 'you are welcome. I am rejoiced to see
you.'

For a gentleman who was rejoiced to see a body of visitors, Mr Gregsbury