I felt there could be no possible ground either for
suspecting him of any deceit towards me, or of omitting any art or
exertion which could conduce to our mutual safety or our common end.

Forcing myself to dwell solely upon the more encouraging side of the
enterprise I had undertaken, we continued to move on, silent and in
darkness, for some minutes longer--Jonson then halted.

"Are you quite prepared, Sir?" said he, in a whisper: "if your heart
fails, in God's name let us turn back: the least evident terror will be
as much as your life is worth."

My thoughts were upon Sir Reginald and Ellen, as I replied--

"You have told and convinced me that I may trust is you, and I have no
fears; my present object is one as strong to me as life."

"I would we had a glim," rejoined Job, musingly; "I should like to see
your face: but will you give me your hand, Sir?"

I did, and Jonson held it in his own for more than a minute.

"'Fore Heaven, Sir," said he, at last, "I would you were one of us. You
would live a brave man and die a game one. Your pulse is like iron; and
your hand does not sway--no--not so much as to wave a dove's feather; it
would be a burning shame if harm came to so stout a heart." Job moved on
a few steps. "Now, Sir," he whispered, "remember your flash; do exactly
as I may have occasion to tell you; and be sure to sit away from the
light, should we be in company."

With these words he stopped. I perceived by the touch, for it was
too dark to see, that he was leaning down, apparently in a listening
attitude; presently, he tapped five times at what I supposed was a door,
though I afterwards discovered it was the shutter to a window; upon
this, a faint light broke through the crevices of the boards, and a low
voice uttered some sound, which my ear did not catch. Job replied, in
the same key, and in words which were perfectly unintelligible to me;
the light disappeared; Job moved round, as if turning a corner. I
heard the heavy bolts and bars of a door slowly withdraw; and in a few
moments, a harsh voice said, in the thieves' dialect,

"Ruffling Job, my prince of prigs, is that you? are you come to the ken
alone, or do you carry double?"

"Ah, Bess, my covess, strike me blind if my sees don't tout your bingo
muns in spite of the darkmans. Egad, you carry a bane blink aloft. Come
to the ken alone--no! my blowen; did not I tell you I should bring a
pater cove, to chop up the whiners for Dawson?"

"Stubble