After I had been about a month thus, and had done nothing, my comrade, as I called him, came to me one morning. “Colonel Jacque,” says he, “when shall you and I take a walk again?” “When you will,” said I. “Have you got no business yet?” says he. “No,” says I; and so one thing bringing on another, he told me I was a fortunate wretch, and he believed I would be so again, but that he must make a new bargain with me now; “for,” says he, “colonel, the first time we always let a raw brother come in for full share to encourage him; but afterwards, except it be when he puts himself forward well and runs equal hazard, he stands to courtesy; but as we are gentlemen, we always do very honourably by one another; and if you are willing to trust it or leave it to me, I shall do handsomely by you, that you may depend upon.” I told him I was not able to do anything, that was certain, for I did not understand it, and therefore I could not expect to get anything, but I would do as he bade me; so we walked abroad together. We went no more to the custom-house; it was too bold a venture. Besides, I did not care to show myself again, especially with him in company. But we went directly to the Exchange, and we hankered about in Castle Alley, and in Swithin’s Alley, and at the coffee-house doors. It was a very unlucky day, for we got nothing all day but two or three handkerchiefs, and came home to the old lodgings at the glass-house; nor had I had anything to eat or drink all day but a piece of bread which he gave me, and some water at the conduit at the Exchange Gate. So when he was gone from me, for he did not lie in the glass-house, as I did, I went to my old broth-house for my usual bait, and refreshed myself, and the next day early went to meet him again, as he appointed me. Being early in the morning, he took his walk to Billingsgate, where it seems two sorts of people make a great crowd as soon as it is light, and at that time a-year rather before daylight; that is to say, crimps and the masters of coal-ships, whom they call collier-masters; and, secondly, fishmongers, fish-sellers, and buyers of fish.