back, and there is no place open to go into, and you have therefore
no recourse but to go forward. You arrive at the office. . . . You
wander into the booking office. . . . There stands the identical
book-keeper in the same position, as if he had not moved since you
saw him yesterday. He informs you that the coach is up the yard,
and will be brought round in about 15 minutes. . . . You retire to
the tap-room. . . . for the purpose of procuring some hot brandy and
water, which you do--when the kettle boils, an event which occurs
exactly two and a half minutes before the time fixed for the
starting of the coach. The first stroke of six peals from St.
Martin's Church steeple as you take the first sip of the boiling
liquid. You find yourself in the booking office in two seconds, and
the tap waiter finds himself much comforted by your brandy and
water in about the same period. . . . The horses are in. . . . The
place which a few minutes ago was so still and quiet is all bustle.
'All right,' sings the guard. . . . and off we start as briskly as
if the morning were all right as well as the coach."

One of Cruikshank's pictures illustrates the above scene in the
booking office, and in it one of the figures represents Dickens
himself as he appeared at the period. Dotted about on the walls
are bills in which the name of the hotel is very conspicuous.

In chapter two of The Pickwick Papers we get a further glimpse
of the inn, centring in a more exhilarating and epoch-making
incident. The Pickwickians were to start on their memorable
peregrinations from the "Golden Cross" for Rochester by the
famous "Commodore" coach; and Mr. Pickwick having hired a cabriolet
in the neighbourhood of his lodgings in Goswell Street arrived at
the hotel in order to meet his friends for the purpose. On