C.  N.  There!  She’s going to fetch some ferocious revolutionaries to make an end of me.  It’s no use trying to stop her now.  I will flee in another direction; perhaps I shan’t always meet people I’ve sentenced.

[As he is going he runs up against WILLIAM JOYCE, once SOCIALIST ENSIGN, entering from the other side.

William Joyce.  Hilloa, citizen! look out! (looking at him) But I say, what’s the matter with you?  You are queerly rigged.  Why, I haven’t seen a man in such a condition for many a long day.  You’re like an ancient ruin, a dream of past times.  No, really I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.  Can I do anything to help you?

[C.  N. covers his face with his hands and moans.

W.  J.  Hilloa!  Why, I’m blessed if it isn’t the old bird who was on the bench that morning, sentencing comrade Jack!  What’s he been doing, I wonder?  I say, don’t you remember me, citizen?  I’m the character who came in with the red flag that morning when you were playing the last of your queer games up yonder.  Cheer up, man! we’ll find something for you to do, though you have been so badly educated.

C.  N.  Spare me, I entreat you!  Don’t let it be known who I am, pray don’t, or I shall certainly be hanged.  Don’t hang me; give me hard labour for life, but don’t hang me!  Yes, I confess I was Judge Nupkins; but don’t give me up!  I’ll be your servant, your slave all my life; only don’t bring me before a magistrate.  They are so unfair, and so hard!

W.  J.  Well, what do you think of a judge, old fellow?

C.  N.  That’s nearly as bad, but not quite; because sometimes there’s a cantankerous blackguard on the jury who won’t convict, and insists on letting a man off.  But, please, pray think better of it, and let it be a private matter, if you must needs punish me.  I won’t bring an action against you, whatever you do.  Don’t make it a judicial matter!  Look here, I’ll sign a bond to be your servant for ever without wages if you will but feed me.  I suffer so from not having my meals regularly.  If you only knew how bad it is to be hungry and not to be sure of getting a meal.

W.  J.  Yes, Nupkins; but you see, I do know only too well—­but that’s all gone by.  Yet, if you had only known that some time ago, or let’s say, guessed at it, it might have been the better for you now.

C.  N. (aside; Oh, how jeering and hard he looks!) Oh, spare me, and don’t send me to the workhouse!  You’ve no idea how they bully people there.  I didn’t mean to be a bad or hard man; I didn’t indeed.

W.  J.  Well, I must say if you meant to be anything else, you botched the job!  But I suppose, in fact, you didn’t mean anything at all.—­So much the worse for you. (Aside:  I must do a little cat and mouse with him).