He was a polite, handsome man of five-and-forty, with a fine pair of dark eyes and a handsome black beard.

During my brief residence in Newgate he treated me with marked civility, and sometimes engaged in a few minutes' conversation.

In one of these brief interviews he told me that he had officiated at fourteen executions, and devoutly hoped he might never witness another, his feelings on every occasion having been of the most horrible character.

I also found that he was fond of a book, although he had little leisure for reading or any other recreation.

He looked longingly at my well-printed copy of Byron; but what impressed him most was my little collection of law books, especially Folkard's fat "Law of Libel," which he regarded with the awe and veneration of a bibliolater, suddenly confronting a gigantic mystery of erudition.
This worthy officer came to tell me that my "friend with the big head" had just called to see what he could do for us.