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By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid.
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