“I should think so,” replied Bill. “Your servant, sir.” “Thank you,” said Gray. “Is the coast clear now? Can I go?” “Lor’ bless you, no!” replied the man who was named Bill. “You must not venture for an hour yet. There’s a watchman put at the end of this court to apprehend any strange gentlemen going out of it; but in the course of an hour we can dispose of him.” “Indeed?” said Gray. “Oh, yes. When Jim Binks comes home, he’ll go and be booked, as safe as a gun.” “I don’t understand you.” “Why, this is it,” continued Bill. “Jim Binks can make himself look so uncommon suspicious a character, that if he likes he is sure to be taken up, if there’s been any regular kick up about anything such as your murder.” Gray started. “Well, well,” continued the ruffian, “damme, it was well done, you needn’t now look as if you couldn’t help it.” “I begin to understand you,” said Gray. “The person you name will allow himself to be taken for me?” “Exactly. They know him well at the watch-house, and will let him go directly again, because it’s well known you are a stranger, as half a dozen officers can swear to.” “Then in the interval I can leave the house,” said Gray. “You can. But Jim must be paid.” “Oh, certainly. I have two hundred pounds, gentlemen; I hope you will accept of one of them for your very great kindness, and leave me the other.” “What do you say to that, Bill?” cried the man who had come with Gray. “I think it’s fair,” said the other. “Well, then, that’s agreed.” “Thank you, gentlemen,” said Gray, breathing a little more freely at the idea of getting off with nearly all his money. “Now then,” said Bill, “come down stairs, as all business matters are settled, and have a bit of supper.” “I shall be grateful for it,” said Gray, “for I have tasted nothing to-day.” He did not perceive the wink that passed between his new friends, but at once followed them from the attic to the lower part of the crazy tenement. In an old wainscoted room on the first floor, there was a bright and cheerful-looking fire, and such scanty articles of furniture as were absolutely requisite for the personal accommodation of three or four persons. A table, on which were several plates, mugs, bottles, and other evidences of some recent meal, stood close by the fire. Bill, the proprietor of all this display of dirt and dinginess, took up the poker from the fire-side, and beat it heavily against the floor, observing at the same time— “It’s a d—d sight better than a bell is a poker—the wire never breaks.” “You speak like a oracle, Bill,” remarked the other man, throwing himself into a seat, and giving Jacob Gray a pull towards him to undo the rope that was still round his middle. “What will you both drink?” cried Bill; “I have something of everything here, I do believe.” “Brandy for me,” cried the other man. “I should prefer wine,” said Gray, “if you have some on hand.”