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"Let me think, ma'am," said the doctor, "let me think."

Mr. Losberne thrust his hands into his pockets and took several turns up and down the room, often stopping and balancing himself on his toes and frowning frightfully. After various exclamations of "I've got it now," and "no, I havn't," and as many renewals of the walking and frowning, he at length made a dead halt, and spoke as follows:

“I think if you give me a full and unlimited commission to bully Giles and that little boy, Brittles, I can manage it. He is a faithful fellow and an old servant, I know; but you can make it up to him in a thousand ways, and reward him for being such a good shot besides. You don't object to that?"

"Unless there is some other way of preserving the child,” replied Mrs. Maylie.

"There is no other," said the doctor. "No other, take my word for it."

"Then aunt invests you with full power," said Rose, smiling through her tears; "but pray don't be harder upon the poor fellows than is indispensably necessary." "You seem to think," retorted the doctor, "that everybody is disposed to be hard-hearted to-day except yourself. I only hope, for the sake of the rising male sex generally, that you may be found in as vulnerable and soft-hearted a mood by the very first eligible young fellow who appeals to your compassion; and I wish I were a young fellow that I might avail myself on the spot of such a favourable opportunity for doing so, as the present." "You are as great a boy as poor Brittles himself," returned Rose, blushing.

"Well," said the doctor, laughing heartily," that is no very difficult matter. But to return to this boy: the great point of our agreement is yet to come. He will wake in an hour or so, I dare say; and although I have told that thick-headed constable fellow down stairs that he musn't be moved or spoken to, on peril of his life, I think we may converse with him without danger. Now, I make this stipulation that I shall examine him in your presence, and that if from what he says, we judge, and I can show to the satisfaction of your cool reason, that he is a real and thorough bad one, (which is more than possible,) he shall be left to his fate, without any further interference, on my part, at all events."

"Oh, no, aunt!" entreated Rose. "Oh, yes, aunt," said the doctor. it a bargain?"

"Is

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"He cannot be hardened in vice," said Rose; "it is impossible."

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Very good," retorted the doctor; "then so much the more reason for acceding to my proposition."

Finally the treaty was entered into, and the parties thereto sat down to wait with some impatience until Oliver should wake.

The patience of the two ladies was destined to undergo a longer trial than Mr. Losberne had led them to expect, for hour after hour passed on, and still Oliver slumbered heavily. It was evening, indeed, before the kind-hearted doctor brought them the intelligence that he had at length roused sufficiently to be spoken to. The boy was very ill, he said, and weak from the loss of blood; but his mind was so troubled with anxiety to disclose something, that he deemed it better to give him the opportunity than to insist upon his remaining quiet until next morning, which he should otherwise have done.

The conference was a long one, for Oliver told them all his simple history, and was often compelled to stop by pain and want of strength. It was a solemn thing to hear, in the darkened room, the feeble voice of the sick child recounting a weary catalogue of evils and calamities which hard men had brought upon him. Oh! if, when we oppress and grind our fellow-creatures, we bestowed but one thought on the dark evidences of human error, which, like dense and heavy clouds are rising slowly, it is true, but not less surely, to heaven, to pour their after-vengeance on our heads if we heard but one instant in imagination the deep testimony of dead men's voices, which no power can stifle and no pride shut out, where would be the injury and injustice, the suffering, misery, cruelty, and wrong, that each day's life brings with it!

Oliver's pillow was smoothed by woman's hands that night, and loveliness and virtue watched him as he slept. He felt calm and happy, and could have died without a murmur.

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There were assemblea it that lower house of the domestic parliament, the women servants, Mr. Brittles, Mr. Giles, the tinker, (who had received a special invitation to regale himself for the remainder of the day in consideration of his services,) and the constable. The latter gentleman had a large staff, a large head, large features, and large half-boots, and looked as if he had been taking a proportionate allowance of ale, as indeed he had.

The adventures of the previous night were still under discussion, for Mr. Giles was expatiating upon his presence of mind when the doctor entered; and Mr. Brittles, with a mug of ale in his hand, was corroborating every thing before his superior said it.

"Sit still," said the doctor, waving his hand.

"Thank you, sir," said Mr. Giles. "Misses wishes some ale to be given out, sir, and as I felt noways inclined for my own little room, sir, and disposed for company, I am taking mine among 'em here."

Brittles headed a low murmur by which the ladies and gentlemen generally, were understood to express the gratification they derived from Mr. Giles's condescension; and Mr. Giles looked round with a patronising air, as much as to say, that so long as they behaved properly, he would never desert them.

"How is the patient to-night, sir?" asked Giles.

"So-so;" returned the doctor. "I am afraid you have got yourself into a scrape there, Mr. Giles.

"I hope you don't mean to say, sir," said Mr. Giles, trembling, "that he's going to die. If I thought it, I should never be happy again. I would n't cut a boy off, no, not even Brittles here, not for all the plate in the country, sir."

"That's not the point," said the doctor mysteriously. "Mr. Giles, are you a

Protestant?"

"Yes, sir, I hope so;" faltered Mr. Giles, who had turned very pale.

"And what are you, boy?" said the doctor, turning sharply upon Brittles.

"Lord bless me, sir!" replied Brittles, starting violently; "I'm the same as Mr. Giles, sir."

"Then tell me this," said the doctor fiercely, "both of you-both of you: are you going to take upon yourselves to swear that that boy up stairs is the boy that was put through the little window last night! Out with it! Come; we are prepared for you.

The doctor, who was universally considered one of the best-tempered creatures on earth, made this demand in such a dreadful tone of anger, that Giles and Brittles, who were considerably muddled by ale and excitement, stared at each other in a state of stupefaction.

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Pay attention to the reply, constable, will you," said the doctor, shaking his forefinger with great solemnity of manner, and tapping the bridge of his nose with it, to bespeak the exercise of that worthy's utmost acuteness. Something may come of this before long."

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The constable looked as wise as he could, and took up his staff of office which had been reclining indolently in the chimney-corner.

"It's a simple question of identity, you will observe," said the doctor.

"That's what it is, sir," replied the constable, coughing with great violence; for he had finished his ale in a hurry, and some of it had gone the wrong way.

"Here's a house broken into," said the doctor, "and a couple of men catch one moment's glimpse of a boy in the midst of gunpowder smoke, and in all the distraction of alarm and darkness. Here's a boy comes to that very same house next morning, and because he happens to have his arm tied up, those men lay violent hands upon him-by doing which, they place his life in great danger—and swear he is the thief. Now, the question is, whether those men are justified by the fact, and if not, what situation do they place themselves in?"

The constable nodded profoundly, and said that if that was n't law, he should be glad to know what was.

"I ask you again," thundered the doctor, "are you on your solemn oaths able to identify that boy?"

Brittles looked doubtfully at Mr. Giles, Mr. Giles looked doubtfully at Brittles, the constable put his hand behind his ear to catch the reply; the two women and the tinker leant forward to listen; and the doctor glanced keenly round, when a ring was heard at the gate, and at the same moment the sound of wheels.

"It's the runners!" cried Brittles, to all appearance much relieved.

"The what!" exclaimed the doctor, aghast in his turn.

"The Bow-street officers, sir," replied Brittles, taking up a candle, "me and Mr. Giles sent for 'em this morning."

"What!" cried the doctor.

"Yes," replied Brittles, "I sent a message up by the coachman, and I only wonder they weren't her before, sir."

"You did, did you. Then confound and damn your slow coaches down here; that's all," said the doctor, walking away.

CHAPTER THE EIGHTH

Involves a critical position.

"WHO's that?" inquired Brittles, opening the door a little way with the chain up, and peeping out, shading the candle with his hand.

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Open the door,” replied a man outside: "it's the officers from Bow-street that was sent to, to-day."

Much comforted by this assurance, Brittles opened the door to its full width, and confronted a portly man in a greatcoat, who walked in without saying anything more, and wiped his shoes on the mat as coolly as if he lived there.

"Just send somebody out to relieve my mate, will you, young man, ?" said the officer: "he's in the gig minding the prad. Have you got a coach'us here that you could put it up in for five or ten minutes?"

Brittles, replying in the affirmative, and pointing out the building, the portly man stepped back to the garden gate, and helped his companion to put up the gig, while Brittles lighted them in a state of great admiration. This done, they returned to the house, and, being shown into a parlour, took off their great-coats and hats, and showed like what they were. The man who had knocked at the door was a stout personage of middle height, aged about fifty, with shiny black hair, cropped pretty close, half whiskers, a round face, and sharp eyes. The other was a red-headed bony man, in top-boots, with a rather ill-favoured countenance, and a turned-up sinister-looking nose.

"Tell your governor that Blathers and Duff is here, will you?" said the stouter man, smoothing down his hair, and laying a pair of handcuffs on the table. "Oh! good evening, master. Can I have a word or two with you in private, if you please?"

This was addressed to Mr. Losberne, who now made his appearance; and that gentleman, motioning Brittles to retire, brought in the two ladies and shut the door.

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Mr. Blathers made a bow, and, being desired to sit down, put his hat upon the floor, and, taking a chair, motioned Duff to do the same. The latter gentleman, who did not appear quite so much accustomed to good society, or quite so much at his ease in it, one of the two, seated himself, after undergoing several muscular affections of the limbs, and forced the head of his stick into his mouth with some embarrassment.

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Now, with regard to this here robbery, master," said Blathers. "What are the circumstances?"

Mr. Losberne, who appeared desirous of gaining time, recounted them at great length and with much circumlocution: Messrs. Blathers and Duff looking very knowing meanwhile, and occasionally exchanging a nod.

"I can't say for certain till I see the place, of course," said Blathers; "but my opinion at once is, I don't mind committing myself to that extent, that this wasn't done by a yokel-eh, Duff?" Certainly not," replied Duff.

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"And, translating the word yokel for the benefit of the ladies, I apprehend your meaning to be that this attempt was not made by a courtryman?" said Mr. Losberne with a smile.

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That's it, master," replied Blathers. "This is all about the robbery, is it?" All," replied the doctor.

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"Now, what is this about this here boy that the servants are talking of?" said Blathers.

"Nothing at all," replied the doctor. "One of the frightened servants chose to take it into his head that he had something to do with this attempt to break into the house; but it's nonsense-sheer absurdity."

"Wery easy disposed of it is," remarked Duff.

"What he says is quite correct," observed Blathers, nodding his head in a confirmatory way, and playing carelessly with the handcuffs, as if they were a pair of castanets. "Who is the boy? What account does he give of himself? Where did he come from? He did n't drop out of the clouds, did he, master?"

"Of course not," replied the doctor with a nervous glance at the two ladies. "I know his whole history;-but we can talk about that presently. You would like to see the place where the thieves made their attempt, first, I suppose?"

"Certainly,' rejoined Mr. Blathers. "We had better inspect the premises first, and examine the servants arter

wards. That's the usual way of doing | have the why and the wherefore, and business."

Lights were then procured, and Messrs. Blathers and Duff, attended by the native constable, Brittles, Giles, and everybody else in short, went into the little room at the end of the passage, and looked out at the window, and afterwards went round by way of the lawn, and looked in at the window, and after that had a candle handed out to inspect the shutter with, and after that a lantern to trace the footsteps with, and after that a pitchfork to poke the bushes with. This done amidst the breathless interest of all beholders, they came in again, and Mr. Giles and Brittles were put through a melo-dramatic representation of their share in the previous night's adventures, which they performed some six times over, contradicting each other in not more than one important respect the first time, and in not more than a dozen the last. This consummation being arrived at, Blathers and Duff cleared the room, and held a long council together, compared with which, for secrecy and solemnity, a consultation of great doctors on the knottiest point in medicine would be mere child's play.

Meanwhile the doctor walked up and down the next room in a very uneasy state, and Mrs. Maylie and Rose looked on with anxious faces.

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Upon my word," he said, making a halt after a great number of very rapid turns, "I hardly know what to do."

"Surely," said Rose, "the poor child's story, faithfully repeated to these men, will be sufficient to exonerate him."

"I doubt it, my dear young lady," said the doctor, shaking his head. "I don't think it would exonerate him, either with them or with legal functionaries of a higher grade. What is he, after all, they would say a runaway. Judged by mere worldly considerations and probabilities, his story is a very doubtful one."

"You credit it, surely?" interrupted Rose in haste.

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take nothing for granted. On his own showing, you see, he has been the companion of thieves for some time past; he has been carried to a police-office on a charge of picking a gentleman's pocket, and is taken away forcibly from that gentleman's house to a place which he cannot describe or point out, and of the situation of which he has not the remotest idea. He is brought down to Chertsey by men who seem to have taken a violent fancy to him, whether he will or no, and put through a window to rob a house, and then, just at the very moment when he is going to alarm the inmates, and so do the very thing that would set him all to rights, there rushes into the way that blundering dog of a half-bred butler and shoots him, as if on purpose to prevent his doing any good for himself. Don't you see all this?"

"I see it, of course," replied Rose, smiling at the doctor s impetuosity; "but still I do not see anything in it to crimi nate the poor child."

"No," replied the doctor; "of course not! Bless the bright eyes of your sex! They never see, whether for good or bad, more than one side of any question; and that is, invariably, the one which first presents itself to them.”

Having given. vent to this result of experience, the doctor put his hands into his pockets, and walked up and down the rooin with even greater rapidity than before.

"The more I think of it," said the doctor, "the more I see that it will occasion endless trouble and difficulty to put these men into possession of the boy's real story. I am certain it will not be believed; and, even if they can do nothing to him in the end, still the dragging it forward, and giving publicity to all the doubts that will be cast upon it, must interfere materially with your benevolent plan of rescuing him from misery."

"Oh! what is to be done?" cried Rose. "Dear, dear! why did they send for these people?"

"Why, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Maylie. "I would not have had them here for the world!"

"All I know is," said Mr. Losberne at last, sitting down with a kind of desperate calmness, "that we must try and carry it off with a bold face, that's all! The object is a good one, and that must be the excuse. The boy has strong symptoms of fever upon him, and is in no condition to be talked to any more; that's

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Nobcdy suspected them in this case," said Mrs. Maylie.

"Wery likely not, ma'am," replied Blathers," but they might have been in it, for all that."

"More likely on that wery account," said Duff.

"We find it was a town hand," said Blathers, continuing his report; "for the style of work is first-rate."

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Wery pretty indeed, it is," remarked Duff in an under tone.

"There was two of 'em in it," continued Blathers, "and they had a boy with 'em; that's plain, from the size of the window. That's all to be said at present. We'll see this lad that you've got up stairs at once, if you please."

"Perhaps they will take something to drink first, Mrs. Maylie ?" said the doctor, his face brightening up as if some new thought had occurred to him.

"Oh! to be sure!" exclaimed Rose, eagerly. "You shall have it immediately, if you will."

"Why, thank you, Miss!" said Blathers, drawing his coat-sleeve across his mouth: "it's dry work this sort of duty. Anything that's handy, Miss; do n't put yourself out of the way on our accounts.' "What shall it be?" asked the doctor, following the young lady to the sideboard.

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"You always gave that to him," replied Duff. "It was the Family Pet, I tell you, and Conkey had n't any more to do with it than I had."

"Get out!" retorted Mr. Blathers: "I know better. Do you mind that time Conkey was robbed of his money, though? What a start that was! better than any novel-book I ever see!"

"What was that?" inquired Rose, anxious to encourage any symptoms of good humour in the unwelcome visitors.

"It was a robbery, Miss, that hardly any body would have been down upon, said Blathers. "This here Conkey Chick weed-"

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Conkey means Nosey, ma'am," interposed Duff.

"Of course the lady knows that, don't she?" demanded Mr. Blathers." Always interrupting you are, partner. This here Conkey Chickweed, Miss, kept a publichouse over Battle-bridge way, and had a cellar where a good many young lords went to see cockfighting, and badgerdrawing, and that; and a wery intellectual manner the sports was conducted in, for I've seen 'em off'en. He warn't one of the family at that time; and one night he was robbed of three hundred and twenty-seven guineas in a canvas-bag, that was stole out of his bedroom in the dead of night by a tall man with a black patch over his eye, who had concealed himself under the bed, and, after committing the robbery, jumped slap out of window, which was only a story high. He was wery quick about it. But Conkey was quick, too, for he was woke by "It's a the noise, and, darting out of bed, fired a blunderbuss arter him, and roused the neighbourhood. They set up a hue-andcry directly, and, when they came to look about 'em, found that Conkey had hit the robber, for there was traces of blood all the way to some palings a good distance off, and there they lost 'em, However he had made off with the blunt, and, consequently, the name of Mr. Chickweed, licensed witler, appeared in the Gazette among the other bankrupts; and all manner of benefits and subscrip

"A little drop of spirits, master, if it's all the same," replied Blathers. cold ride from London, ma'am, and I always find that spirits comes home warmer to the feelings."

This interesting communication was addressed to Mrs. Maylie, who received it very graciously. While it was being conveyed to her, the doctor slipped out

of the room.

"Ah!" said Mr. Blathers, not holding his wine-glass by the stem, but grasping the bottom between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and placing it in

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