5, Paradise Row, Millbank.

It was hardly yet six o'clock, and Paradise Row was dark as Erebus; that solitary gas-light sticking out from the wall of the prison only made darkness visible; the tallow candles which were brought in and out with every article that was stuffed under a seat, or into a corner, would get themselves blown out; and the sleet which was falling fast made the wicks wet, so that they could with difficulty be relighted.
But at last the cabs were packed with luggage, and into one got Gertrude with her husband, her baby, and her mother; and into the other Charley handed Linda, then Alley, and lastly, the youthful maiden, who humbly begged his pardon as she stepped up to the vehicle; and then, having given due directions to the driver, he not without difficulty squeezed himself into the remaining space.
Such journeys as these are always made at a slow pace.

Cabmen know very well who must go fast, and who may go slow.

Women with children going on board an emigrant vessel at six o'clock on a February morning may be taken very slowly.

And very slowly Gertrude and her party were taken.