t the shutters opposite, down came the _pewlice_ and off we cut."

"I had a tight squeak for it," interrupts Mr. Rapp; "but I beat them at
last, in the dark of the Durham-street arch. That's a dodge worth being up
to when you get into a row near the Adelphi. Fire away, Muff--where did
you go?"

"Right up a court to Maiden-lane, in the hope of bolting into the
Cider-cellars. But they were all shut up, and the fire out in the kitchen,
so I ran on through a lot of alleys and back-slums, until I got somewhere
in St. Giles's, and here I took a cab."

"Why, you hadn't got an atom of tin when you left us," says Mr. Manhug.

"Devil a bit did that signify. You know I only took the _cab_--I'd nothing
at all to do with the driver; he was all right in the gin-shop near the
stand, I suppose. I got on the box, and drove about for my own
diversion--I don't exactly know where; but I couldn't leave the cab, as
there was always a crusher in the way when I stopped. At last I found
myself at the large gate of New Square, Lincoln's Inn, so I knocked until
the porter opened it, and drove in as straight as I could. When I got to
the corner of the square, by No. 7, I pulled up, and, tumbling off my
perch, walked quietly along to the Portugal-street wicket. Here the other
porter let me out, and I found myself in Lincoln's Inn Fields."

"And what became of the cab?" asks Mr. Jones.

"How should I know!--it was no affair of mine. I dare say the horse made
it right; it didn't matter to him whether he was standing in St. Giles's
or Lincoln's Inn, only the last was the most respectable."

"I don't see that," says Mr. Manhug, refilling his pipe.

"Why, all the thieves in London live in St. Giles's."

"Well, and who live in Lincoln's Inn?"

"Pshaw! that's all worn out," continues Manhug. "I got to the College of
Surgeons, and had a good mind to scud some oyster shells through the
windows, only there were several people about--fellows coming home to
chambers, and the like; so I pattered on until I found myself in
Drury-lane, close to a coffee-shop that was open. There I saw such a jolly
row!"

Mr. Muff utters this last sentence in the same ecstatic accents of
admiration with which we speak of a lovely woman or a magnificent view.

"What was it about?" eagerly demand the rest of the circle.

"Why, just as I got in, a gentleman of a vivacious turn of mind, who was
taking an early breakfast, had shied a soft-boiled egg at the gas-light,
whic