At half-past seven o'clock the Major and Zachariah departed. They
walked across the top of Hatton Garden, and so onwards till they came
to Red Lion Street. Entering a low passage at the side of a small
public-house, they went up some stairs, and found themselves opposite
a door which was locked. The Major gave three taps and then paused.
A moment afterwards he tapped again twice; the lock was turned, and
he was admitted. Zachariah found himself in a spacious kind of loft.
There was a table running down the middle, and round it were seated
about a dozen men, most of whom were smoking and drinking beer. They
welcomed the Major with rappings, and he moved towards the empty
chair at the head of the board.

"You're late, chairman," said one.

"Been to fetch a new comrade."

"Is that the cove? He looks all right. Here's your health, guv'nor,
and d---n all tyrants." With that he took a pull at the beer.

"Swear him," said the Major.

A disagreeable-looking man with a big round nose, small red eyes,
unshaven face, and slightly unsteady voice, rose, laid down his pipe,
and beckoned to Zachariah, who advanced towards him.

The Secretary--for he it was--produced a memorandum-book, and began
with a stutter:

"In the sacred name of--"