It was now nine o'clock; and the place, viewed by the flickering light of the lamp at the gate of the governor's house, wore a melancholy and sombre appearance. The prisoner was introduced into a small lobby, where an elderly turnkey with knee-breeches and gaiters, thrust a small loaf of bread into his hand, and immediately consigned him to the care of another turnkey, who led him through several alleys to the staircase communicating with the Receiving Ward. The turnkey pulled a wire, which rang a bell on the first floor. "Who rings?" cried a voice at the top of the stairs. "Sheriffs debtor--Arthur Chichester--L. S.," replied the turnkey, in a loud sing-song voice. Chichester afterwards learnt that he was mentioned as a sheriff's prisoner, in contra-distinction to one arrested by a warrant from the Court of Requests; and that L. S. meant _London side_--an intimation that he had been arrested in the City of London, and not in the County of Middlesex. Having ascended a flight of stone steps, Chichester was met at the door of the Receiving Ward by the steward thereof. This steward was himself a prisoner, but was considered a trustworthy person, and had therefore been selected by the governor to preside over that department of the prison. The Receiving Ward was a long low room, with windows secured by bars, at each end. There were two grates, but only one contained any fire. The place was remarkably clean--the floor, the deal tables, and the forms being as white as snow. The following conversation forthwith took place between the new prisoner and the steward:-- "What is your name?" "Arthur Chichester." "Have you got your bread?" "Yes." "Well--put it in that pigeon-hole. Do you choose to have sheets to-night on your bed?" "Certainly." "Then that will be a shilling the first night, and sixpence every night after, as long as you remain here. You can, moreover, sleep in the inner room, and sit up till twelve o'clock. Those who can't afford to pay for sheets sleep in a room by themselves, and go to bed at a quarter to ten. You see we know how to separate the gentlemen from the riff-raff." "And how long shall I be allowed to stay up in the Receiving Ward?" "That depends. Do you mean to live at my table? I charge sixpence for tea, the same for breakfast, a shilling for dinner, and four-pence for supper." "Well--I shall be most happy to live at your table." "In that case, write a note to the governor, to say you are certain to be able to settle your affairs in the course of a week; and I will take care he shall have it the very first thing to-morrow morning." "But I am sure of not being able to settle in a week." "Do as you like. You won't be allowed to stay up here unless you do." "Oh! in that case I will do so at once. Can you oblige me with a sheet of writing-paper?" "Certainly. Here is one. A penny, if you please." Chichester paid for the paper, wrote the letter, and handed it to the Steward.