he determined, if possible, to apprise her of his place of abode, by a
paragraph in all the daily papers, signifying that Sir Launcelot Greaves
had arrived at his house near Golden Square.

All these resolutions were punctually executed. No such writ had been
taken out in the sheriff's office; and therefore our hero set out on his
jail expedition, accompanied by Mr. Clarke, who had contracted some
acquaintance with the commanding officers in these garrisons, in the
course of his clerkship and practice as an attorney. The first day they
spent in prosecuting their inquiry through the Gate House, Fleet, and
Marshalsea; the next day they allotted to the King's Bench, where they
understood there was a great variety of prisoners. There they proposed
to make a minute scrutiny, by the help of Mr. Norton, the deputy-marshal,
who was Mr. Clarke's intimate friend, and had nothing at all of the
jailor, either in his appearance or in his disposition, which was
remarkably humane and benevolent towards all his fellow-creatures.

The knight having bespoke dinner at a tavern in the Borough, was,
together with Captain Crowe, conducted to the prison of the King's Bench,
which is situated in St. George's Fields, about a mile from the end of
Westminster Bridge, and appears like a neat little regular town,
consisting of one street, surrounded by a very high wall, including an
open piece of ground, which may be termed a garden, where the prisoners
take the air, and amuse themselves with a variety of diversions. Except
the entrance, where the turnkeys keep watch and ward, there is nothing in
the place that looks like a jail, or bears the least colour of restraint.
The street is crowded with passengers. Tradesmen of all kinds here
exercise their different professions. Hawkers of all sorts are admitted
to call and vend their wares as in any open street of London. Here are
butchers' stands, chandlers' shops, a surgery, a tap-house, well