"Not a doubt on it, Sir Richard. If what they calls the last trumpet is only half as loud as my last whistle, it will wake up the coves, and no mistake."
"Very good, Crotchet. Only don't make any profane allusions in the hearing of the gentlemen with me, for one of them is the Under Secretary of State, and the other two are men of account. We have to meet some one else in the church."
"Then he hasn't come."
"That's awkward. The Lord Mayor was to meet us. Ah! who is this?"
A private carriage stopped on the other side of the way, and some one alighted, and a voice cried—
"Go home now, Samuel, and put up the horses. I shall not want you any more to-night. Go home."
"Shan't we call anywhere for you, my lord?" said Samuel, the coachman.
"No—no, I say. Go away at once."
"That's the Lord Mayor," said Sir Richard. "He is pretty true to his time."
As he spoke, Sir Richard crossed the road, and addressed the chief magistrate of the city, saying—