"
"St Lys will trouble you," said Morley. "Alas! for poor human
nature, when violence can only he arrested by superstition."
"Come don't you preach," said the Chartist. "The Charter is a
thing the people can understand, especially when they are
masters of the country; but as for moral force, I should like
to know how I could have marched from Wodgate to Mowbray with
that on my banner."
"Wodgate," said Morley, "that's a queer place."
"Wodgate," said Hatton, "what Wodgate is that?"
At this moment a great noise sounded without the room, the
door was banged, there seemed a scuttling, some harsh high
tones, the deprecatory voices of many waiters. The door was
banged again and this time flew open, while exclaiming in an
insolent coarse voice, "Don't tell me of your private rooms;
who is master here I should like to know?" there entered a
very thickset man, rather under the middle size, with a brutal
and grimy countenance, wearing the unbuttoned coat of a police
serjeant conquered in fight, a cocked hat, with a white plume,
which was also a trophy of war, a pair of leather breeches and
topped boots, which from their antiquity had the appearance of
being his authentic property.
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