d congratulating himself upon his caution; "you think so--ha!
ha! Well, don't go to bed, that's all."

"What for?" demanded the turnkey.

"Because the prisoner's arrival might disturb you--ha! ha!"

"I'll lay you twenty guineas you don't take him to-night," rejoined
Austin.

"Done!" cried Shotbolt. "Mrs. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet.
Twenty guineas, mind. I shan't let you off a farthing. Egad! I shall
make a good thing of it."

"Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs.
Spurling, drily.

"_My_ chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt,
with increased merriment. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. I'll
send you word when I catch him."

"You'd better send _him_," jeered the turnkey.

"So I will," rejoined Shotbolt; "so I will. If I don't, you shall clap
me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. Good-bye, for the pressent--ha!
ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the
Lodge.

"I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. Kneebone's,"
remarked Austin, rising to fasten the door.

"I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs. Spurling, as if struck by a sudden
idea. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to
the black, "Follow him, Caliban. Take care he don't see you,--and bring
me word where he goes, and what he does."

"Iss, missis," grinned the black.

"Be so good as to let Caliban out, Mr. Austin," continued the tapstress;
"he's only going on an errand."

Austin readily complied with her request. As he returned to the table,
he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought
he had a much better chance of winning his wager.

Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile,
hastened towards Wych Street. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple
of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. Arrived within a short
distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark
court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to
wait there till they were summoned.

"I'm a peace-officer," he added, "about to arrest a notorious criminal.
He'll be brought out at this door, and may probably make some
resistance. But you must get him into the chair as fast as you can, and
hurry off to Newgate."

"And what'll we get for the job, yer hon'r?" asked the foremost
chairman, who, like most of his tribe at the time, was an Irishman.

"Five guineas