midnight
Half-drunken hags check themselves in the midst of pots of beer , or pints of gin , to drink to Mr. Field , and pressingly to ask the honour of his finishing the draught . One beldame in rusty black has such admiration for him , that she runs a whole street 's length to shake him by the hand ; tumbling into a heap of mud by the way , and still pressing her attentions when her very form has ceased to be distinguishable through it . Before the power of the law , the power of superior sense -- for common thieves are fools beside these men -- and the power of a perfect mastery of their character , the garrison of Rats ' Castle and the adjacent Fortresses make but a skulking show indeed when reviewed by Inspector Field . Saint Giles 's clock says it will be midnight in half-an-hour , and Inspector Field says we must hurry to the Old Mint in the Borough . The cab-driver is low-spirited , and has a solemn sense of his responsibility . Now , what 's your fare , my lad ? -- O you know , Inspector Field , what 's the good of asking me !