"Now they're a-coming!" he whispered, motioning the people away right and left--a very marshal of management--and then there was the shuffling of feet, the creaking and groaning of the stairs, and the chipping of the wall, as down flight after flight the coffin was carried, resting at the landings, and more than once some neighbour's door was sent flying open. Mrs Sims' was the first, as one of the bearers backed against it, and a lodger's on the first-floor was the next; but the occupiers were down in the court, and so escaped being disturbed. At last, with the top covered with the powdery whitewash chipped from wall and ceiling, the coffin stood in the passage, then in the court for an instant, before being borne into the shabby Shillibeer hearse; while, amidst a suppressed hum of voices, more than one genuine tear was seen to fall, and more than one apron to be held up by those who saw the poor woman's remains borne away. Then back came Mr Pawley on tiptoe with his handkerchief to his eye, and disappeared in the house, from which he soon reappeared with his prisoner, followed by two relatives; and, as Bill Jarker was marched down to the hearse with his ill-fitting cloak, and long crape scarf hanging from his fur-cap, he held his hands together in a strange, peculiar way--a way that, but for the trappings of woe, would have suggested that Mr Jarker was really in custody, and bore steel handcuffs upon his wrists. Then there was a crowding towards the entrance of the court to see Mr Jarker shut in, Mr Pawley mount beside his red-nosed driver, and then the old broken-kneed horse went bowing its head and shambling along through the streets, with no more way made for it than if its doleful load had been so much merchandise.