Paul’s，jinglingrapidlybythestrangers’entryofFleet-
Market，which，withExeter’Change，hasnowdepartedtotheworldofshadows——howtheypassedtheWhiteBearinPiccadilly，andsawthedewrisingupfromthemarket-gardensofKnightsbridge——howTurnhamgreen，Brentwood，Bagshot，werepassed——neednotbetoldhere。
Butthewriterofthesepages，whohaspursuedinformerdays，andinthesamebrightweather，thesameremarkablejourney，cannotbutthinkofitwithasweetandtenderregret。Whereistheroadnow，anditsmerryincidentsoflife？IstherenoChelseaorGreenwichfortheoldhonestpimple-nosedcoachmen？Iwonderwherearethey，thosegoodfellows？IsoldWelleraliveordead？
andthewaiters，yea，andtheinnsatwhichtheywaited，andthecoldroundsofbeefinside，andthestuntedostler，withhisbluenoseandclinkingpail，whereishe，andwhereishisgeneration？Tothosegreatgeniusesnowinpetticoats，whoshallwritenovelsforthebelovedreader’schildren，thesemenandthingswillbeasmuchlegendandhistoryasNineveh，orCoeurdeLion，orJackSheppard。Forthemstage-coacheswillhavebecomeromances——ateamoffourbaysasfabulousasBucephalusorBlackBess。Ah，howtheircoatsshone，asthestable-menpulledtheirclothesoff，andawaytheywent——ah，howtheirtailsshook，aswithsmokingsidesatthestage’sendtheydemurelywalkedawayintotheinn-yard。Alas！weshallneverhearthehornsingatmidnight，orseethepike-gatesflyopenanymore。Whither，however，isthelightfour-insideTrafalgarcoachcarryingus？LetusbesetdownatQueen’sCrawleywithoutfurtherdivagation，andseehowMissRebeccaSharpspeedsthere。
CHAPTERVIII