A GREAT MAN ATTENDS TO BUSINESS Having seen Lord Russell murdered in the fields of Lincoln's Inn, or rather having gone to see it, but turned away with a sickness and a bitter flood of tears--for a whiter and a nobler neck never fell before low beast--I strode away towards Westminster, cured of half my indignation at the death of Charles the First.

Many people hurried past me, chiefly of the more tender sort, revolting at the butchery.

In their ghastly faces, as they turned them back, lest the sight should be coming after them, great sorrow was to be seen, and horror, and pity, and some anger.
In Westminster Hall I found nobody; not even the crowd of crawling varlets, who used to be craving evermore for employment or for payment.
I knocked at three doors, one after other, of lobbies going out of it, where I had formerly seen some officers and people pressing in and out, but for my trouble I took nothing, except some thumps from echo.

And at last an old man told me that all the lawyers were gone to see the result of their own works, in the fields of Lincoln's Inn.
However, in a few days' time, I had better fortune; for the court was sitting and full of business, to clear off the arrears of work, before the lawyers' holiday.

As I was waiting in the hall for a good occasion, a man with horsehair on his head, and a long blue bag in his left hand, touched me gently on the arm, and led me into a quiet place.