“Vell, yer vorchip--ye sees I tells nothin but vots true--I was joggin on by a lonely road, and who overtakes me but this young voman, and that’ere chap in the welveteen fie-for-shames. I twigged them, yer vorchip, at once; for he’s von of the swell mob, and she no better than she ought to be. Vell, they fastens themselves upon me for a while, until I sits down upon a ditch to rest myself, and ged rid on’em. Vell, down she pops upon my knee and asks me for a trifle, while her pal comes behind, and draws me clean as a whistle. I tries to grip my purse, but--he’s a milling cove, yer vorchip--and in he pops his bunch of fives, darkens this here bye, and laves me flat upon my back. Off they goes like winky--and when I comes to myself, neither robber nor voman was to be seen.” The easy audacity with which the Hebrew impostor detailed the particulars of the alleged robbery, actually paralyzed the accused. The sergeant looked confounded; the student shook his head; and the rat-catcher alone listened with incredulity, and preserved his faith unshaken. As to the worthy justice, no doubt of the fosterer’s guilt remained upon his mind; and all that puzzled him was, whether he could safely convict the girl as an accomplice. The fatal order to issue the mittimus was on his lips, when the Israelite addressed himself to “the king’s poor esquire,” and, as it appeared, it was mercifully in arrest of judgment. “In speaking a few words to the worthy beak, I mean his vorchipful honour, I hopes the veakness of my caracter will be excused, vich vos in bein too tender-hearted from the werry eradel. I vould’nt jist wish to have the girl clapped under the screw, nor even that’ere chap should be lagged for life, though he’s fly to everything, from thimble-riggin to wilful murder. So, as the blunt’s got, if yer honour will let the voman off, and only shop the cove as stole the purse for the trifle of a fortnight, I’ll not insist on prosecution.” While the unblushing Jew was delivering his humane appeal, the fosterer grew pale with rage, the girl red with indignation. There appeared nothing but “warder and fetters for the Graeme” as the justice was in the very act of affixing his sign-manual to the committal, when lo! a change came over the scene--the sound was heard of wheels stopped suddenly--and next moment, a young man, in a sailor’s dress, sprang into the room, and exclaiming, “Julia, my lost one, have I found thee!”--folded the wanderer in his arms, and pressed her ardently to his heart. On the girl, the appearance of the stranger seemed to have produced emotions of greater violence; she uttered a wild shriek, fainted on the sailor’s breast, and was borne by her new protector in a state of insensibility from the hall of justice.