Sometimes as a mabber I dose the swell fred;— Or else as a vamper I mill for a ned; And as soon as my man is tripp'd by the gams, A pal knaps his ticker, or frisks off his flamms. But the life that I love is in Swell-street to shine, With a Mounseer-fak'd calp, and my strummel all fine, Heater-cases well polish'd, and lully so white, And an upper ben fitting me jaunty and tight. Then with nice silk rain-napper, or gold-headed dick, I plunge neck and heels into sweet river-tick; And if in a box of the stone-jug I get, Though hobbled for macing, 'twill prove but a debt. Then lip us a chant, pals! Why thus mum your dubber? My gropus clinks coppers, and I'll fake the rubber: A noggin of lightning will slacken our glib; So pass round the lush, and let none nap the bib. "Brayvo, Jovial Jen!" shouted the inmates of the boozing-ken parlour. "You're the prince of good fellers at a spree," said the Knacker: "and I'll stand a quartern of blue ruin and two outs, in spite o' what old Swiggs said of the lush." The promised treat was called, paid for, and disposed of. Scarcely had the applause, which greeted this song, terminated, when the door opened, and Lafleur, Mr. Greenwood's French valet, entered the room. He was disguised in a large rough coat and slouched hat; but the Buffer immediately recognised his countenance, and hurried to meet him. "You're late," said the Buffer, in a low tone. "Yes—I could not come before," answered the valet. "But I knew that you would wait for me, as I told you yesterday that the business was important." "Well, we can't talk here," observed the Buffer. "There's a snug room up-stairs devoted to them that's got private business: and I'll show you the way." The Buffer left the parlour, followed by Lafleur, whom he conducted to a private apartment on the first floor. A bottle of wine was ordered; and when the waiter had withdrawn, the Buffer made a sign for his companion to explain the object of the interview. "You know very well that I am in the service of Mr. Greenwood, the Member of Parliament?" began Lafleur. "Yes—me and two pals once did a little job for him on the Richmond road," answered the Buffer. "You mean the affair of the robbery of Count Alteroni?" said Lafleur. "Well—I do, since you know it. Does your master tell you all his secrets?" demanded the Buffer. "No—no," was the reply; and the Frenchman gave a sly laugh. "But he can't very well prevent me listening at the door of his room, when he's engaged with people on particular business. I know enough to ruin him for ever." "So much the better for you. There's nothing like being deep in one's master's secrets: it gives you a hold on him." "Let us talk of the present business," said Lafleur. "Are you the man to do a small robbery on the Dover road, as skilfully as you helped to do it on the Richmond road?"