ed me sick. Ten paces away three women
and a man were brawling, the low angry tones of his voice mingling with
the screeches of their Billingsgate. Muffled figures were passing and
repassing unconcernedly, some entering the houses, others coming out, and
a handsome coach, without arms and with a footman in plain livery,
lumbered along and stopped farther on. All this I remarked before I took
notice of him who had intercepted me, and demanded what he wanted.

"Hey, Bill!" he cried with an oath to a man who stood on the steps
opposite; "'ere's a soft un as has put 'is gill in."

The man responded, and behind him came two more of the same feather, and
suddenly I found myself surrounded by an ill-smelling crowd of flashy men
and tawdry women. They jostled me, and I reached for my sword, to make
the discovery that I had forgotten it. Regaining my full senses, I
struck the man nearest me a blow that sent him sprawling in the dirt. A
blade gleamed under the sickly light of the fish-oil lamp overhead, but a
man crashed through from behind and caught the ruffian's sword-arm and
flung him back in the kennel.

"The watch!" he cried, "the watch!"

They vanished like rats into their holes at the shout, leaving me
standing alone with him. The affair had come and gone so quickly that I
scarce caught my breath.

"Pardon, sir," he said, knuckling, "but I followed you."

It was Banks. For a second time he had given me an affecting example of
his faithfulness. I forgot that he was my servant, and I caught his hand
and pressed it.

"You have saved my life at the risk of your own," I said; "I shall not
forget it."

But Banks had been too well trained to lose sight of his position. He
merely tipped his hat again and said imperturbably:

"Best get out of here, your honour. They'll be coming again directly."

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Drury Lane, sir," he replied, giving me just the corner of a glance;
"shall I fetch a coach, sir?" No, I preferred to walk. Before we had
turned into Long Acre I had seen all of this Sodom of London that it
should be given a man to see, if indeed we must behold some of the
bestiality of this world. Here alone, in the great city, high and low
were met equal. Sin levels rank. The devil makes no choice between my
lord and his kitchen wench who has gone astray. Here, in Sodom, painted
vice had lain for an hundred years and bred half the crime of a century.
How many souls had gone hence in that time to m