"Let's say to-morrow night; there is no moon now to speak on, and business in other quarters is slack." "So be it. Here goes, then, to the success of our new job at old Markham's;" and as the burglar uttered these words he tossed off a bumper of brandy. This example was followed by his worthy companion; and their conversation then turned upon other topics. "I say, Bill, this old house has seen some jolly games, han't it?" "I should think it had too. It was Jonathan Wild's favourite crib; and he was no fool at keeping things dark." "No, surely. I dare say the well-staircase in the next room there, that's covered over with the trap-door, has had many a dead body flung down it into the Fleet." "Ah! and without telling no tales too. But the trap-door has been nailed over for some years now." The unfortunate youth in the adjacent chamber was riveted in silent horror to the spot, as these fearful details fell upon his ears. "Why was the trap-door nailed down?" "'Cos there's no use for _that_ now, since the house is uninhabited, and no more travellers comes to lodge here. Besides, if we wanted to make use of such a conwenience, there's another----" A loud clap of thunder prevented the remainder of this sentence from reaching the youth's ears. "I've heard it said that the City is going to make great alterations in this quarter," observed Dick, after a pause. "If so be they comes near us, we must shift our quarters." "Well, and don't we know other cribs as good as this--and just under the very nose of the authorities too? The nearer you gets to them the safer you finds yourself. Who'd think now that here, and in Peter-street, and on Saffron-hill too, there was such cribs as this? Lord, how such coves as you and me does laugh when them chaps in the Common Council and the House of Commons gets on their legs and praises the blue-bottles up to the skies as the most acutest police in the world, while they wotes away the people's money to maintain 'em!" "Oh! as for alterations, I don't suppose there'll be any for the next twenty years to come. They always talks of improvements long afore they begins 'em." "But when they _do_ commence, they won't spare this lovely old crib! It 'ud go to my heart to see them pull it about. I'd much sooner take and shove a dozen stiff uns myself down the trap than see a single rafter of the place ill-treated--that I would." "Ah! if so be as the masons does come to pull its old carcass about, there'll be some fine things made known to the world. Them cellars down stairs, in which a man might hide for fifty years and never be smelt out by the police, will turn up a bone or two, I rather suspect; and not of a sheep, nor a pig, nor a bull neither."