r
it would be better for me to benefit by it openly, or by stratagem; that
is--whether it were wiser to state the whole case to him, or continue
to gain whatever I was able by dint of a blind examination. Now, the
disadvantage of candour was, that if it were his wish to screen Dawson
and his friend, he would be prepared to do so, and even to put them on
their guard against my suspicions; but the indifference he had testified
with regard to Dawson seemed to render this probability very small. The
benefits of candour were more prominent: Job would then be fully aware
that his own safety was not at stake; and should I make it more his
interest to serve the innocent than the guilty, I should have the entire
advantage, not only of any actual information he might possess, but
of his skill and shrewdness in providing additional proof, or at least
suggesting advantageous hints. Moreover, in spite of my vanity and
opinion of my own penetration, I could not but confess, that it was
unlikely that my cross-examination should be very successful with so old
and experienced a sinner as Mr. Jonson. "Set a thief to catch a thief,"
is among the wisest of wise sayings, and accordingly I resolved in
favour of a disclosure.

Drawing my chair close to Jonson's, fixing my eye upon his countenance,
and throwing into my own the most open, yet earnest expression I could
summon, I briefly proceeded to sketch Glanville's situation (only
concealing his name), and Thornton's charges. I mentioned my own
suspicions of the accuser, and my desire of discovering Dawson, whom
Thornton appeared to me artfully to secrete. Lastly, I concluded, with
a solemn promise, that if my listener could, by any zeal, exertion,
knowledge, or contrivance of his own, procure the detection of the men,
whom I was convinced were the murderers, a pension of three hundred
pounds a-year should be immediately settled upon him.

During my communication, the patient Job sat mute and still, fixing his
eyes on the ground, and only betraying, by an occasional elevation
of the brows, that he took the slightest interest in the tale: when,
however, I touched upon the peroration, which so tenderly concluded with
the mention of three hundred pounds a-year, a visible change came over
the countenance of Mr. Jonson. He rubbed his hands with an air of great
content, and one sudden smile broke over his features, and almost buried
his eyes amid the intricate host of wrinkles it called forth: th