MIZ. Yes, you may ha! ha! ha!--but I don't see anything to ha! ha! at--No, nor to ho! ho! at neither. I have done with fun for ever. BOLT. Oh! don't say so! we are all right, you know. Have not I got through beautifully? steered through all the windings and intricacies? Do you suppose a skilful coachman would give a fig for a drive on a smooth road?--No! it is turning the sharp corners that displays ingenuity. MIZ. Ah! but don't let me be on the box with the said ingenious coachman. BOLT. To be sure it was lucky we overtook young Rattle, with his gig;--if he had not given us a lift, we should not have been home till breakfast time. MIZ. No!--and master would. A pretty figure we should have cut, if we'd arrived in time to find him opening the shutters. BOLT. Well! we'll go in. (_Feels in his pocket._) Here is the key--No! curse it, there is not!--nor in this pocket!--nor in that!--Bobby, did I give you the key? MIZ. No! (_feeling._) No--I have not got it! BOLT. The deuce! then we have-- MIZ. No! you are not going to say the key is lost? don't say so! BOLT. It is though, whether I say so or not; and now I remember, I heard something chink on the ground, when I jumped off the wall. MIZ. Oh! what a devil of a chink that was! BOLT. It's confoundedly awkward! MIZ. _It_ is? I like that! _you_ were confoundedly awkward, you mean. Why did not you do as I do when I carry money? put it in my breeches pocket, and tie pack-thread round. BOLT. Ha! ha! ha! Don't be down-hearted Bobby--here is a third adventure;--it will have an end. But give me time, my boy, and I'll get through anything. MIZ. Then if you could get through that keyhole, it would be the best exercise for your ingenuity. (_Rain heard._) 'Gad it is coming on to rain like the very deuce! BOLT. Here is a shelter; we'll get in here. MIZ. Yes! and we shall soon have the pleasure of seeing Old Cotton let himself in. Crikey! what a well-spent day! (_Retire, 2 L. H._) _Enter SAM NEWGATE, R.H., followed by PETER PRIG--they are dressed in large great coats--NEWGATE has a lantern in his hand--the heads of two pistols are just seen one from each pocket--PRIG has in his hand a black mask._ NEW. Come along, man; don't crawl! PRIG. I don't like it a bit. NEW. Pshaw! you're not half a fellow,--you're a humbug, Peter. BOLT. What two respectable individuals. MIZ. Ah! you and I may look like them, if we take many more holidays. NEW. The streets are clear.--So you were old Cotton's foreman? PRIG. Yes, sure! I was, some time ago! MIZ. Ah! Cotton's foremen are always pretty blossoms. NEW. And you left this same old Cotton? PRIG. He made me leave, on account of a little exercise of my ingenuity. But you see I was down upon him. NEW. What by taking the impression of the street-door key in wax?--But why the devil did you not go in before? PRIG. Cos I had not the pluck; when I met with you, I was inspired. MIZ. I say, a'n't you fly? BOLT. Oh, yes, I'm awake!