The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. “Mind my smoking?” said Roddy. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. It would be very good to be Capes’ friend.
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