The foreman entered into
the thing with spirit, and divided the copy, small as it was, among two
or three compositors: so a rough proof was ready in an incredibly short
time; the doctor corrected it: and soon they began to work off the
copies. The foreman found them Mitchell's newspaper list, and envelopes
by the hundred, and while the copies were pouring in, all hands were
folding and addressing them to the London and provincial editors. The
office lent the stamps. The doctor drove Alfred to his own lodgings, and
forbade him to reappear in Pembroke Street until the letter should come
out in the London journals.
That night the letters were all posted, and at daybreak were flying
north, south, east and west. In the afternoon the letter came out in four
London evening papers, and the next morning the metropolis and the whole
kingdom were ringing with them, and the full blaze of publicity burst
upon this dark deed.
Ay, stout Sampson, well you knew mankind, and well you knew the nation
you lived in. Richard Hardie, in the very act of setting detectives to
find Alfred's lurking-place, ran his nose against this letter in the
_Globe.
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