As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager.
Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street.

On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him.

Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned.
"I'm a peace-officer," he added, "about to arrest a notorious criminal.
He'll be brought out at this door, and may probably make some resistance.

But you must get him into the chair as fast as you can, and hurry off to Newgate." "And what'll we get for the job, yer hon'r ?" asked the foremost chairman, who, like most of his tribe at the time, was an Irishman.
"Five guineas.

Here's a couple in hand." "Faix, then we'll do it in style," cried the fellow.