When we got to the street the clerk hailed a cab and told us to jump in. The strange looking vehicle, with the coachman sitting on a box at the back of a hood that covered us, I learned later was a hansom cab. Mattia and I were huddled in a corner with Capi between our legs. The clerk took up the rest of the seat. Mattia had heard him tell the coachman to drive us to Bethnal-Green. The driver seemed none too anxious to take us there. Mattia and I thought it was probably on account of the distance. We both knew what "Green" meant in English, and Bethnal-Green undoubtedly was the name of the park where my people lived. For a long time the cab rolled through the busy streets of London. It was such a long way that I thought perhaps their estate was situated on the outskirts of the city. The word "green" made us think that it might be in the country. But nothing around us announced the country. We were in a very thickly populated quarter; the black mud splashed our cab as we drove along; then we turned into a much poorer part of the city and every now and again the cabman pulled up as though he did not know his way. At last he stopped altogether and through the little window of the hansom a discussion took place between Greth & Galley's clerk and the bewildered cabman. From what Mattia could learn the man said that it was no use, he could not find his way, and he asked the clerk which direction he should take. The clerk replied that he did not know for he had never been in that thieves' locality before. We both caught the word "thieves." Then the clerk gave some money to the coachman and told us to get out of the cab. The man grumbled at his fare and then turned round and drove off. We were standing now in a muddy street before what the English call a gin palace. Our guide looked about him in disgust, then entered the swing-doors of the gin palace. We followed. Although we were in a miserable part of the city I had never seen anything more luxurious. There were gilt framed mirrors everywhere, glass chandeliers and a magnificent counter that shone like silver. Yet the people who filled this place were filthy and in rags. Our guide gulped down a drink standing before the beautiful counter, then asked the man who had served him if he could direct him to the place he wanted to find. Evidently he got the information he required for he hurried out again through the swing-doors, we following close on his heels. The streets through which we walked now were even narrower and from one house across to another were swung wash lines from which dirty rags were hanging. The women who sat in their doorways were pale and their matted fair hair hung loose over their shoulders. The children were almost naked and the few clothes that they did wear were but rags. In the alley were some pigs wallowing in the stagnant water from which a fetid odor arose. Our guide stopped. Evidently he had lost his way. But at this moment a policeman appeared.