The String of Pearls (1850), p. 493

voluntarily beating her head against the boards. They quickly lifted her up; and then the tali stranger turned to the cook, who, after leaping over the counter, had sat down upon a chair in a state of complete exhaustion, and he said—
"Do you know the way to Sir Richard's office, in Craven Street? He expects you there, I believe?"
"Yes, yes. But now that all is over, I feel very ill."
"In that case, I will go with you, then. Crotchet, who have you got outside?"
"Only two of our pals, Muster Green; but it's all right, if so be as you leaves the lady to us."
"Very well. The warrant is at Newgate, and the governor is expecting her instant arrival. You will get a coach at the corner of the yard, and be off with her at once."
"All's right," said Crotchet. " I knowed as she'd be nabbed, and I had one all ready, you sees."
"That was right, Crotchet. How amazingly quick everybody has left the shop. Why—why, what is all this?"
As the officer spoke, about half a dozen squares of glass in the shop window of the house were broken in, and a ringing shout from a dense mob that was rapidly collecting in the yard, came upon the ears of the officer. The two men whom Crotchet had mentioned, with difficulty pressed their way into the shop, and one of them cried—
"The people that were in the shop have spread the news all over the neighbourhood, and the place is getting jammed up with a mob, every one of which is mad, I think, for they talk of nothing but of the tearing of Mrs. Lovett to pieces. They are pouring in from Fleet Street and Carey Street by hundreds at a time."

CHAPTER CXIII.
THE ROUTE TO NEWGATE.—MRS. LOVETT's DANGER FROM THE MOB.

Mrs. Lovett, upon hearing these words, turned ghastly pale, but she did not speak. The officers looked at each other with something like dismay, and then before either of them could say another word, there arose a wild prolonged shout from without.
"Out with her—out with her! Kill her! Tear her to bits and hang her on the lamp-post in the middle of Bell Yard! Out with her! Drag her out! Hang her! hang her!"
"The coach you say is waiting, Crotchet?" said the officer, who had been intrusted by Sir Richard Blunt with the conduct of the whole business connected with Mrs. Lovett's capture.
"It were," said Crotchet, "and that coachman ain't the sort of fellow to move on till I tell him. I knows him."
"Very good, then we must make a dash for it, and get her away by main force. It must be done, let the risk and the consequences be what they may, and the sooner the better, too. Come on, madam."
"Death—death!" said Mrs. Lovett. "Kill me here, some of you, kill me at once; but do not let me be torn to pieces by a savage mob. Oh, God, they yell for my blood! Save me from them, and kill me here. A knife! oh, for a knife!"
"And a fork too, mum," said Crotchet, "in course, if you wants 'em. I tells you what it is, Mr. Green, that there mob is just savage, and we have about as much chance of getting her down to Fleet Street with her head on her shoulders, as all of us have of flying over the blessed house tops."
"We must. It is our duty, and if we fail, they must kill us, which I don 't think they will do. Come on."