"Lord Mayor be hanged! If he swears till he's black in the face that Charley did it, I know he didn't. There."
"'Twasn't the Lord Mayor. Some other of those City bigwigs."
"Anyway, he is in Newgate. It's said, too, that it is Grubb and Howard who have sent him there."
"Did he rob their cash-box?"
"Do they accuse him of it, you mean, Booby. As if Charley would do such a thing!"
"Let us go down to Newgate, and have a smoke with him," cried Charteris, who had so small a share of brains and so very small a voice as to have acquired the nickname of Booby. "It may cheer the young fellow up, under the present alarming state of things."
"As if they'd admit us inside Newgate, or a smoke either!" retorted John Cust. "There's only one thing more difficult than getting into Newgate, and that is, if you are in, getting out again. Don't forget that, Booby."
"Couldn't some of us go and punch a few heads down there, beginning with old Howard's?" again proposed Booby. "I don't say Grubb's."
"Grubb has had nothing to do with bringing the charge; you may rely upon that," said Lord Deerham. "Grubb's a gentleman. You shut up, Booby."
Ah! it was all very well for these idle, foolish young men to express their sympathy with the prisoner in their idle, foolish way: but, what of the distress of those connected with him?