They searched their captive, and found two loaded pistols and a great variety of valuables about him. Then they escorted him to a post-chaise, which was in waiting; and the same night saw him in Newgate. He made a quiet and composed end, like most of his kind. They knew their risks, these dauntless enemies of society, and accepted death by strangulation when it came with something of philosophy. XX And now for the plain, unvarnished narrative of one who travelled these roads a century ago. [Sidenote: _A STRANGER IN OUR GATES_] When that simple-minded German, Pastor Moritz, who visited England towards the close of last century, grew tired of London, he determined, he says, to visit Derbyshire; and, making the necessary preparations for his excursion, set out on June 21, 1782, for Richmond, though why he should have gone to Richmond _en route_ for Derbyshire is difficult to understand. He took with him four guineas, some linen, and a book of the roads, together with a map and a pocket-book, and (for he had his appreciations) a copy of "Paradise Lost." Thus equipped, he enjoyed for the first time what he calls the "luxury of being driven in an English stage," from which expression and our own people's doleful tales of eighteenth-century travelling in England, we may infer that the public conveyances of the Pastor's native land were particularly bad. The English coaches were, according to him, viewing them with the eye of a foreigner, "quite elegant." This particular one was lined in the inside, and had two seats large enough to accommodate six persons; "but it must be owned," he goes on to say, "that when the carriage was full the company was rather crowded." By which we may gather that the seats rather discommoded than accommodated. The only passenger at first was an elderly lady, but presently the coach was filled with other dames, who appeared to be a little acquainted with one another, and conversed, as our traveller thought, in a very insipid and tiresome manner. Fortunately, he had his road-book handy, and so took refuge in its pages by marking his route. The coach stopped at Kensington, where a Jew would have taken a seat, but that luxurious conveyance was full inside, and the Israelite was too proud to take a place amongst the half-price outsiders on the roof. This naturally annoyed the travellers, for they thought it preposterous that a Jew should be ashamed to ride on the outside. They thought he should have been grateful for being allowed to ride on any side in any way, since he was but a Jew. In this connection Mr. Moritz takes occasion to observe that the riding upon the roof of a coach is a curious practice. Persons to whom it was not convenient to pay full price sat outside, without any seats, or even a rail. By what means passengers thus fastened themselves securely on the roofs of those vehicles he knew not, but he constantly saw numbers seated there, at their ease, and apparently with perfect safety.