"Well, what's the charge?" demanded the inspector. "This fellow will come upon my beat with his apple-cart, and I can't keep him off. So I've sent his cart to the Green Yard, and brought him here." "Please, sir," said the poor fellow, wiping away a tear from his eye, "I endeavour to earn an honest living by selling a little fruit in the streets. I have a wife and seven children to support, and I only stayed out so long to-night because I had had a bad day of it, and the money is so much wanted at home--it is indeed, sir! I do hope you'll let me go, sir: my poor wife will be ready to break her heart when she finds that I don't come home; and my eldest boy always sits up for me. Poor little fellow! he will cry so if he don't kiss _Father_ before he goes to bed." There was something profoundly touching in this poor man's manner and language; and Markham felt inclined to interfere in his behalf. He, however, remembered that he was only allowed to sit in that room by suffrance, and that he was at the mercy of the caprice of ignorant, tyrannical, and hard-hearted men: he accordingly held his tongue. "Come, Crisp--have you got that down?" said the inspector. "Yes, sir." "Well, let the man be locked up: the magistrate must decide in the morning." And the poor fellow, in spite of his remonstrances, was removed to a cell. "I could not exactly understand what this new prisoner has done," said Markham. "Obstructed the way and created a nuisance," replied the inspector pompously. "But he is endeavouring to earn his bread honestly, I think; and the road is open to every one." "Oh! no such thing. Those little carts frighten the horses in the great folks' carriages, and can't be allowed. He must have a month of it--he's been warned several times, and is incorrigible. I'll tell the magistrate so." "And what will become of his family?" "Family! why, go to the workhouse, to be sure!" Presently a third constable made his appearance, accompanied by a poor miserable-looking woman and three small children--all wretchedly clad and careworn. "What's the charge now?" "Charge from the workus. This here o'oman was admitted to-night to the Union with them three children; and 'cos the master ordered her to be separated from her children, she kicked up hell's delight. So the master turned 'em all out together, called me up, and give 'em in charge." "Put that down, Crisp." "Yes--and it is true too," sobbed the poor woman. "I am not ashamed to own that I love my children; and up to this blessed hour they have never been separated from me. It would break their poor little hearts to be torn away from me--that it would, God bless them! I love them all, poor--miserable as I am!" A flood of tears drowned the voice of this wretched mother. "Inspector," said Markham, touched to the quick by this affecting scene, "you will allow me----" "Silence, young man. It's a charge from the workus, and the workus is paramount."