The windows of the houses commanding a view of the ghastly scene now began to fill with people.
In them too, many of the fair sex were to be seen. The crowd before the scaffold became denser—people, as is usual on occasions of this description, push and elbow each other. An English crowd is bound to do this.
“Where ye’re shovin’ to?” said a tall youth to a brawny looking man, who to all appearance was a navigator. “Jest keep yer elbows to yerself.”
“It aint my fault, yer fool,” said the navigator. “It’s the people behind who’s a pushing.”
“Well, then, you’re strong enough, and can keep ’em back if you like.”
“Don’t you be so cheeky, young fellow,” returned the other; “you aint everybody.”
“Give him a dab in the eye,” said a voice behind.
“I shan’t be at all particular about that if he gives me any more of his cheek.”
“Hush! Order!” ejaculated another of the crowd. “This aint a time to be a-quarrelin’.”
“Right you air, old man,” said another.