"Come, Tom--they may turn up yet." "Never in this world, except at a pawnbroker's. I could go mad to think that my last memorial of Mary is in all probability glittering in the unclean shirt of a bagman!" "Had you not better apply to the Fiscal?" "For what purpose? Doubtless the scoundrel has driven off to the nearest railway, and is triumphantly counting the mile-posts as he steams to his native Leeds. No, Fred. Both watch and studs are gone beyond the hope of redemption." "The loss is certainly a serious one." "No doubt of it: but a thought strikes me. You recollect the edict, _nautae_, _caupones_, _stabularii_? I have not studied the civil law for nothing and am clearly of opinion, that in such a case the landlord is liable." "By Jove! I believe you are right. But it would be as well to turn up Shaw and Dunlop for a precedent before you make any row about it. Besides, it may be rather difficult to establish that you lost them at the inn." "If they only refer the matter to my oath, I can easily settle that point," replied Strachan. "Besides, now that I think of it, Miss Percy can speak to the watch. She asked me what o'clock it was just before we parted on the stairs." "Eh, what! Is the lady in this house?" "To be sure--did I not tell you so?" "I say, Tom--couldn't you contrive to let one have a peep at this angel of yours?" "Quite impossible. She is the shyest creature in the world, and would shrink from the sight of a stranger." "But, my dear Tom----" "I can't do it, I tell you; so it's no use asking me." "Well, I must say you are abominably selfish. But what on earth are you going to do with that red and blue Joinville? You can't go down to court without a white neckcloth." "I am not going down to court." "Why, my good fellow! what on earth is the meaning of this?" "I am not going down to court, that's all. I say, Fred, how do I look in this sort of thing?" "Uncommonly like a cock-pheasant in full plumage. But tell me what you mean?" "Why, since you must needs know, I am going up stairs to breakfast with Miss Percy." So saying, Mr Strachan made me a polite bow, and left the apartment. I took my solitary way to the courthouse, marvelling at the extreme rapidity of the effect which is produced by the envenomed darts of Cupid. CHAPTER II. On entering the court, I found that the business had commenced. An enormous raw-boned fellow, with a shock of the fieriest hair, and hands of such dimensions that a mere glimpse of them excited unpleasant sensations at your windpipe, was stationed at the bar, to which, from previous practice, he had acquired a sort of prescriptive right. "James M'Wilkin, or Wilkinson, or Wilson," said the presiding judge, in a tone of disgust which heightened with each successive alias, "attend to the indictment which is about to be preferred against you."