ioned
at the door.

"It's a private sort of affair," Perkins said; "none ain't supposed to
go but those as is in the swim. They pretend to be mighty afraid of the
peelers; but, Lor' bless you! the police don't trouble about them. When
these chaps gets to making rows in the street, and to kicking up a
rumpus, then they will have something to say about it sharp enough; but
as long as they merely spout and argue among themselves, the peelers
lets them go on. Well, young gents, here we goes."

Bill Lowe advanced first; he was known to the doorkeeper, and the words
"All right, mate, friends of mine," were sufficient. He stood aside, and
the party entered. Passing through a passage, they were in a hall some
fifty feet long by half as wide; the walls had originally been painted
blue, with wreaths of flowers along the top, but these and the roof were
so discoloured by smoke and dirt, that the whole were reduced to a dingy
brown. At the end at which they entered was a gallery extending some
fifteen feet into the room, at the other end was a raised platform, with
a drop curtain. The latter was now raised, and displayed a table with
half a dozen chairs. The chairman for the evening was seated in the
centre of the table. He was a young man with a pale face, eyes bloodshot
from many nights spent in the reeking atmosphere of the room, and
tumbled hair, which looked as if weeks had passed since it had made the
acquaintance of a brush. He had just risen as the party entered; the
room, which was fairly filled with men, rang with the applause which had
greeted the speaker who had sat down.

"Fellow-workmen," said the chairman--("I wonder what you work at," Frank
muttered below his breath; "nothing that requires washing,
anyhow.")--"Fellow-workmen, your cheers are evidence how deeply you have
been moved by the noble words of my friend Mr. Duggins, and how your
blood boils at the hideous slavery to which we are condemned by a
tyrannical aristocracy. You will now be addressed by my eloquent friend
Mr. Simpkins, boot-closer."

[Illustration: THE BREAK-UP OF THE CHARTIST MEETING.]

Mr. Simpkins rose. He was a short, round-shouldered man, made still
shorter by the bend which he had acquired by the operation of
boot-closing; his eyes were small, and sunken in his head; his nose wide
and flat, as if in his early youth he had fallen on the edge of a pewter
pot, and he too had the appearance of regarding water with as deep an
aversion as he