Before he could advance many paces, an experienced eye picked him out as an “outsider” and a visitor. A dingy tattered man--sallow with long confinement, and the pressure of an enduring poverty, which had, as he who gave it as a toast, said, stuck by him long after his friends had deserted him--touched Hal on the elbow. “Stranger here, I see,” he observed, as the young man turned sharply around; “come to see a friend, I presume. If you will honour me with the name of the gentleman residing here, I will conduct you straight to his room. If you don’t find him there, I’ll search for him among the players--sure to find him--one of the conveniences of this establishment is, that the friend you call to see is never far from his hutch--‘not at home’ is not known in our vocabulary.” Hal saw that the information was to be purchased at an arbitrary gift. He felt that a guide was unnecessary, as the information he had received from the turnkey, though not at first clear, was plain enough now. Yet there was something in the careworn aspect of the man’s features--in the wistful, anxious expression of his eye--telling of the strong hope he had now before him of obtaining a breakfast; so that Hal, who had breakfasted heartily, could not find it in his heart to disappoint his expectations; and, after a perusal of the poor fellow’s face, and a hasty glance at his threadbare attire, he said-- “I want to see a Mr. Wilton. Do you know where he is--situated?” Hal had almost said, confined, but he arrested the word ere it left his lips. “Wilton, Wilton,” repeated the man; “he is a new comer, eh?” “He is,” replied Hal. “Ah!” returned the man, “then he is either 2 in 8, or 7 in 4, or”---- “I can save you the trouble of speculating by telling you”---- “5 in 10,” interrupted the man; “that is the only other room which has been recently occupied. The lawyers--you a lawyer, sir?” Hal laughed freely. “No,” he answered, “I am not a lawyer.” “Glad to hear it. The precious rastals! they have been driving a roaring trade lately. Ah, sir! what a glorious country this would have been without lawyers! No writs, no executions, no imprisonment for debt. By Jove! what a splendid state of things.” The man shut his eyes to enjoy the ecstacy he felt even in imagining such an Utopia. “For swindlers no doubt!” observed Hal, with a smile; “but lawyers are essentially necessary to prevent honest men being devoured by rogues.” “Very true, sir; that is one side of the question. If they confined themselves to that line, they would be a valuable body of professionals, but unfortunately they do not. You are too young and too inexperienced to know that they are much more the rogue’s friend than the honest man’s counsellor and servant.” Hal shook his head.