“It must have been a moment of intense anxiety to Mr. Halliday.
“I was a little curious as to the result, and looked on with expectation.
“The court-yard was a narrow piece of ground, in which men were drilled occasionally. It was covered with gravel and surrounded by a high wall, which, however, in no way obstructed the light, which fell in a bright stream upon the men, who were marshalled in single file, to await the scrutiny of the landlord, who took a critical survey of them, and, without a moment’s hesitation, went up to Mr. Joseph Halliday, and touching him on the shoulder, exclaimed, ‘this is the man.’
“A shudder of repulsion ran through the prisoner’s frame, and he turned ghastly pale. I thought he would have fallen. The inspector smiled, and said, ‘An old hand, evidently.’”
“Oh, they generally come to that conclusion in most cases—do they not?” observed Peace.
“Well, I don’t know that they do, sir,” returned Mr. Cartridge; “but you know we have such a number of shocking characters under our hands, that it is, after all, but a natural conclusion. But I will proceed with my narrative:”
“‘Oh! I knew him again in an instant,’ exclaimed the landlord, who went back again with the inspector to allow the barman to commence his investigation.
“A tin cup stood under a tap, and seeing the prisoner looked faint and ill, I filled it with water, and presented it to him.
“He drank off the contents at a draught, and regarded me gratefully.
“‘You are very kind,’ he murmured, in a low tone.