"Why, man," said cabbie, "when they get there they are dead." "Great place!" said Sedgwick. "The greatest in all England," replied cabbie. "Do you know of any Englishmen who are in a hurry to be carried there?" said Sedgwick. "O, no," said cabbie, "the best of them are not in any hurry about it." "You Englishmen must be a queer race, to be always dreaming of going to a place and still are never anxious to start," said Sedgwick. Cabbie gave up trying to explain the majesty of the great Abbey to one so utterly obtuse as Sedgwick seemed to be. He drove on in silence for half an hour or forty minutes before he rallied enough to speak again. Then he pointed to a structure and called down to Sedgwick that the place was Newgate. "What is there peculiar about Newgate?" asked Sedgwick. "Why, it is the famous Newgate prison," said cabbie. Sedgwick roused himself and asked, "What do they do in Newgate?" "What do they do?" said cabbie, "what do they do? Why, they hang people there sometimes." "Get down, please, and ask them what they will charge to hang me," said Sedgwick. He did not smile; he seemed in sober earnest. Cabbie looked at him for an instant, then whipped up his horses and hurried him to the hotel. Arriving there, he sprang down and said, "This is your hotel." Sedgwick got out and was walking off mechanically, when cabbie said, "Five shillings, please, sir." Sedgwick, with "O, I had forgotten," handed the man a guinea, and passed into the hotel. Cabbie looked after him, then tapped his forehead as much as to say, "He is off in the upper story," and mounting his box, drove away. Sedgwick went to his rooms, threw off his coat, opened a window, sat down, put his heels on the table, lighted a cigar which went out in a moment, and an hour later when Browning, radiant, joyous, and exulting, returned, he found him there, still holding the unlighted cigar in his mouth, his feet still on the table, and a puzzled, undecided, and absorbed look on his face. Browning rushed up to him, crying, "Jim, congratulate me, I have seen her, and it is all settled. She is an angel, Jim, and she has promised to be my wife. O, but God is good to me." "I am glad, old man, I rejoice with you," said Sedgwick. "I hope with all my heart no cloud will ever cross the sunshine of your lives." Then he relapsed again into his moody way. "What ails you, Jim?" asked Browning. "Does this great babel oppress your spirits?" "I believe it does, Jack," he answered. "I was just thinking as you came in that I had better pull out for home. The atmosphere here is like a drift without any air-pipe."