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of than honesty, and where the child was educated to believe that clever deceit was more to be admired than steady industry, the beggar was not the less successful in alms-seeking on account of being known as an impostor, but had halfpence given to him with some coarse jest, expressing that the donors were cognizant of the trick he was practising. On the day to which our story now refers, the beggar was crouched in the angle of the door of the gin-palace, as if to screen himself from the beans of the sun, which was powerfully shining; he had been esconced there for several hours, undisturbed by the threats and imprecations of the low persons in whose way he was, and at whom he looked up sulkily as they passed. It might have been observed that he regarded with especial attention those from whom he heard the Irish brogue, and that when some Hibernians passed into the liquor-shop, he was so far interested as to be induced to peep in after them, and to listen to their conversation. Mrs. Mallalieu's protégé, Barney, was just then coming down the street, and the beggar, hearing approaching footsteps upon the causeway, suddenly resumed his old attitude, and crouched again into his corner. It was but for a second, however; his eye lighted upon Barney, and his countenance expressed a singular joy as he watched the man along the path; the second afterwards he sprang from his corner with uncrippled agility into the street, but as suddenly, when Barney, attracted by the noise, turned round to see who followed, he again assumed his wonted hobble. He was not quick enough to deceive the sharp eye of the thief, who saw through the imposture. "Ah! by the powers, now, ye're not sharp enough, mister Scaramouch," said Barney, laughing, "ye needn't try that dodge wid me."
While he said this, the beggar pressed close up to him, and said, in a low tone, but with a manner that evidently surprised Barney-"I have been patiently looking for you for a month." This statement seeming to startle the thief more than the speaker intended, he added-"Don't be alarmed, I am your friend, or, at least, will be, if you will be mine. If I wanted to get you into any harm, I should have gone a different way about it, and should have arrested you as soon as I found you now."
"What is it that ye want wid me, then 24 said the thief, with an oath, and a suspicious scowl.
“I want to speak with you about some business, in which you and I will go parts ners, if you will consent to do part of the work.” 2. hor V2 S nia Faix, it's not the work that I'm fond of," said Barney, stepping away, with the apparent intention of concluding the inter view, “work's not my fancy at all at:all.”
"It is not work, exactly," replied the other, following the thief: "where can we hold some private communication?"
The Irishman looked at the man, as if to measure what physical strength would be opposed to his, in case of any encounter; and after a moment's consideration, added, with a peculiar laugh—“ Humph! ye're a queer sort of a beggar, ye are; maybe ye'll have no objection to step into Mistress Mallalieu's back parlour, though it's not 'xactly sich a place as ye've been accus tomed to, if a body can judge by yer spaach." With this the two men turned to walk in the direction indicated, but Barney, observing a change in his companion's gait, thought it necessary to add "Ye'll oblige, howiver, if ye'll jist hobble as usual as far as we go i'the street."
The beggar assented by a nod, and followed Barney as desired.
Mrs. Margaret Mallalieu was sitting on her door-step, smoking a short pipe as black with use as the hideous doll which hung in the blazing sunshine above its not less ugly proprietress. The place seemed in no wise cleaner or more orderly than when it was visited by Gregory and Sam; if any change could be perceived, it was that the old iron looked rustier, and the hag tawdrier, and the windows more cracked and dusty. The spider of wickedness seemed still to sit there between her rawI edged eyes, and to have woven a dirtier web on her yellow face. The creature rose as Barney approached, and rolled her bleared eye horribly as he whispered a few words of slang in her ear. What he said immediately changed the defiant look she had at first bestowed upon the beggar into a servile attention. 3. ac ex
"Och!" said the hag, "the gintleman's welcome, entirely welcome; and it is Mrs. Margaret Mallalieu that's proud to see the gintleman; for he's inganious, and
knows how to make a livin'. Barney, how dareye to turn yer back on the gintleman, ye dirty blagaird? Och, ye must'nt mind him, sir, he's a fine lad, but ye persave he's no manners same time Barney knows how to respect at gintleman. Ah! walk in, sir; be asy, walk in; though it's not sich anplace ass I'd wish to show ye into; more's the pity in sich hard times when folks can't get an honest livin' any how." Taking little notice of the hag's volubility, the beggar and Barney passed into the room at the back of the shop, which has been before described. The stranger without ceremony closed and bolted the door, and then seated himself on a box on one side of the hearth, while Barney on the other commenced rocking himself in the ricketty and solitary chair which the room contained, and waited for his odd visitor to open the conversation. A minute passed before a word was spoken on either sides At length, Barney, picking up one of the rags from the corner near him, lighted his pipe, and remarked, with a view to break the silence"Arrah! by the powers, we will not be taken up for kickin' up a row, that's sartin sure." ar
used all along, "and you will find out your error to the cost of your life, if you trust your safety to Mr. Capel." The speaker pushed up his slouched hat, the more clearly to see the effect of his words upon Barney, and added-" He saw you at the fire at Bamford's house-he let you in.".
The mysterious person, whose features were now disclosed, was a man about thirty-five years of age. His countenance at first sight appeared prepossessing; but upon closer scrutiny had a Judas-like look, which showed what a wicked, but cowardly soul sneaked behind it. His grey, but much impaired eyes might have been keen and piercing at some time; but now seemed dim and darkened like the cob-webbed window of a criminal's dungeon. The look of ingenuousness which the man was evidently accustomed to assume, had become fixed upon his front, but was too transparent long to deceive. His red whiskers and beard had been allowed to grow; and his face, naturally rather pallid, had been made exceedingly dirty, for the sake of assuming the character in which he had lately appeared. A peculiarity of manner in speaking arose from a certain stiffness of one cheek, which appeared to be partially paralyzed, and an irregularity of the teeth, which seemed as if they had been recently broken by some violence. Barney eyed the man for a moment, and was certain he had seen the unmistakeable face before; he also perceived that the grey eyes of the stranger, who had been hitherto so audacious, quailed before his own, and that the tone of courage which had been put on was but a feeble counterfeit.
Acting upon this impression, Barney assumed a tone of bravado, and denied any knowledge of the circumstances of the riot and fire, beyond those which had come to him by casual rumour, and accused his visitor of being a thief-catcher in disguise, who thought to entrap him into some confession that might bring himself or companions into the hands of the pitiless agents of the law. The stranger waited, not without uneasiness, till Barney paused; and then, to the thief's astonishment and alarm, described the dress which the rioter had worn in Marton Fields, the disguise he had employed, and the circumstances under which he had obtained access to the house,
with the words used by Mr. Capel upon opening the door. He also went on to state the manner in which Barney, followed by the mob, had rushed up the stairs, and had struck down the man they met upon the landing, while several pursued Bamford towards the roof. In concluding his statement, he said, with some hesitation, and with the look of a man who was conscious he was lying- "This is what Mr. Capel knows no matter how I know it from him. But I know more than this."
Briefly, this," said the mysterious visitor, with a servile show of patience; “I want you to act a part in which I will instruct you, and the profits of which are to be equally divided between us. Is this sharing of the spoil agreed to?"
Sure, an' there's honour among thieves; much more wid gintlemen like ourselves," replied Barney with a smile,
"Our object," continued the beggar, "must be to quarter ourselves upon Mr. Capel, and by proving to him that we know too much, to make him purchase our silence. I cannot appear in the matter, for reasons I will hereafter explain to you."
"But ye tell me that Mr. Capel has me in his power," said the Irishman, "an' if ye spake truly, faith it's me that had better stop away from him.”
"I have a power over Mr. Capel," answered the other, "which will protect you, should he prove restive; and I pledge my word to take summary vengeance upon him, and prevent him appearing against you, should he take any measures to injure you."
"I perfectly understand what you mean," said the other, with a coaxing air; "but you had better hear my plan, and you will then know what will be required of you."
A conversation, in which Barney appeared much interested, followed; after which the thief and the disguised visitor parted, with an understanding that they would meet again in the evening. The thief took the nearest way towards Mr. Capel's offices, adjoining his shop in Water Street. By a complete change of dress, close cutting his long hair, and shaving his face, he had effected such a change in his appearance, that he was fearless of being
"First, let's know who ye are," interrupted Barney, "and where ye come from, and all about ye; faith, there's a smack o' brimstone about ye, and it's mighty un-recognised as the rioter whose discovery plisant to bethink yerself in mysterious was sought. As he walked along, Barney company, and I don't like to trust myself seemed highly satisfied with his thoughts, with ye entirely." and sang and whistled as he went.
By ye'r description," said Barney, "ye were in the riot yourself; and maybe, as ye talk about hanging, ye may not be over safe yourself."
"I was not at the riot," answered the stranger, 'or if I was, no living voice can prove it; but let us not waste time-we shall gain nothing by debating how much either of us is in the other's power. Capel is now rich. We both could get him into trouble-but that would pay us nothing; yet is it not likely that he will pay us to keep quiet? Do you understand me now? Capel has good things; have you an inclination to share them? If you have, and are willing to share the spoils with me, let us at once understand one another.
"By the powers," said Barney, "I am just the boy that's ready to share any good things that are to be got without work; but if there's any work to be done, it's not Barney that would dirty his fingers with the business. I hope ye understand that, Mr. What's-ye'r-name."
his attention, he said :-"Very well; faith, it's no use bein' over partickler-we'll say yer name's Jones-Davy Jones; ha! ha! Your name is Jones. Sure, an' its an illigant title, it is. So then, Mr. Davy Jones, let's be knowin' what's the plan which yer honour intends to propose."
"Who I am, and what I am, cannot make any difference. I am a man like yourself, who have got a vengeance to serve and a living to get-whose hand is against every man, and every man's hand against mine," responded the disguised beggar.
Barney looked at his visitor and appeared to be satisfied, for after he had puffed out a few whiffs of smoke towards the object of
Mr. Capel was sitting on the same high stool, looking as snake-like as usual; but his office was handsomely furnished, and upon the door was a large brass plate, which bore the name of the successful schemer, and stated also that he was an accountant, sharebroker, and general agent. Though he looked around with a satisfied air, there was a shade upon his brow, and he hungrily
bit his nails every now and then. In the very height of his prosperity, he felt there was a security wanting; that there were thunder clouds which might burst upon him when he least expected it.
the riot and opened the doo-ur for the mob. Och, an' it 'ud be mighty inconvanient to Misther Capel to explain how it was he was in the house, and why he took so much trouble to get from the meetin' so quickly to Marton Fields !"
The thief had stood up, and with smiling impudence watched Mr. Capel writhe as he thus talked on, and proceeded in quite a jocular tone-"By the same token some curious people might inquire what them papers might be that ye held in yer hand when ye opened the doo-ur, and encouraged the rioters to come on and go up the stair!"
On his arrival at Mr. Capel's offices, Barney knocked with confidence, and hearing from the boy who answered the summons that his master was at home, he made bold to walk forward and rap at the inner door, when a voice called out, "Come in." The next moment Barney and Mr. Capel were face to face. The latter seemed disconcerted for a moment, but requested the man to sit down, endeavouring to appear as if he knew nothing of his visitor. He took the precaution, however, to tell a youth who was sitting in the back office that he could go home, and upon his leaving, carefully closed the door. Twisting and twining his fingers like skinny vipers writhing together, he approached Barney, and asked, with affected unconcern, what the gentleman might require him to do.
With a less assumed audacity the thief replied :—“ Ah! faith, that's jist the question ye ought to ask, and I'm jist the lad to give Misther Capel the straightforward answer.'
The legs of Mr. Capel curled tightly round the stool, and his elastic body wriggled in a very snakish manner, while Barney, with calm effrontery, went on
The horizon of Mr. Capel's prospects grew cloudy as Barney went on, and his conscience smote him that he had built his fortune upon the sands of trickery and fraud, instead of upon the rock of industry. In one painful glance he saw that he had sunk into a dungeon of dishonesty of which Barney had the key, and that his riches and luxuries, which he fancied he had secured, were slipping from his grasp. With the unnatural courage of desperation he struggled to hide his confusion, and to turn the tables upon his antagonist.
"It's jist a little money ye can do for me, Misther Capel; and I'm sartin sure ye'll not refuse it to a good friend that can keep his tongue between his teeth."
"Your name is Barney-a well-known thief-the man who had crape over his face, and for whose apprehension a reward has been offered. I saw you at the inquest upon Parker's body; so you are in my power. But, still," here he spoke with much hesitation," as it would not be desirable that a man of my respectability and standing in society should be accused of being in Marton Fields, I have-have--no-no objection, if you preserve your silence, to reward you for it."
The listener's leathern face grew leaden pale, and his black and yellow eyes seemed ready to start from his head as he fixed them upon Barney, with a horrible look of suppressed rage; but there was a considerable interval before he was able to hiss forth without opening his teeth
"At once-now?" said Barney.
"No, no," said the sharebroker, with a cunning twinkle of his eyes, "I must see "This is your business, it; what right if you keep your mouth shut first." have you to seek moneys thus ? What do you mean, fellow ?"
"Och! I mane jist what I say; and what's more, it's not a yard that I'll budge till yer honor pays me for keeping so quiet. Maybe ye think that ye'd be before me and inform of me; but I'd have ye to think twice about that same; for far more would come out than would be convenient to Misther Capel. Sure, it's nothin' ye'd gain by hangin' me; and if ye gave evi-induced to give the man some money, and dence ye'd have to admit that ye were at to promise a weekly stipend upon demand.
"Faith, I'll be paid for what I have done already, before we make any further bargains; and then I must be paid weekly for myself and my companion who saw ye at Bamford's house. Ye will see that if ye were to get me hanged, my friend would get ye transporthed; so it's convanient for both of us to be entirely on good terms."
The conversation was prolonged somewhat further, but ended in Mr. Capel being
The thief then took his departure, and Mr. Capel resumed his seat upon the office stool.
"He must be crushed," muttered the broker between his teeth; "I'll have him apprehended and got out of the way." Thus soliloquising, he took a sheet of paper, and wrote a letter to an officer of the constabulary force connected with the detective department, informing him that Barney was the man who had led the rioters, and suggesting that if a free pardon was offered to those who might give evidence against him, sufficient information to prove the charge would be forthcoming.
It is an old adage that "there is honour among thieves;" but the antiquity of the saying is no proof of its truth; on the other hand, all experience shows that where men are not accustomed to obey the dictates of conscience, and have no regard for moral laws, there can be no moral tie to
CHAUCER AND SHAKSPERE stand the central figures of two brilliant ages, divided by a space of time of two hundred years, r but presenting many very interesting and important points of resemblance. First, as you have seen, the language that we speak was almost created by Chaucer; he first moulded it into shape and beauty out of a hundred rugged and discordant dia-y lects, that were almost unintelligible to each other: and Shakspeare, with kindred
bind them to each other. Avarice, or self-genius, and still higher powers, so far cominterest, or fear, or base desires, may give pleted what Chaucer began, as to bequeath their companionship a temporary existence; to us a language of the noblest expression, but as soon as a greater temptation, or a and, rightly used, higher price is presented, there has never been found the thief who would not sacrifice his fellow-scoundrels to procure for himself the coveted treasure, or the safety he desires. The exceptions are only so in appearance: there can be no honour among thieves.
Thus it happened that no sooner had Barney secured the money from Mr. Capel, and discovered that the power to procure more seemed entirely in his own hands, than he began to consider how he should evade the payment of half of it to the person through whose advice he had sought and obtained it. With a plan fully completed in his mind, he returned to the Marine Store Shop" of Mrs. Margaret Mallalien.
The spirit of eternal Justice sat on high, and with uncovered eyes-for she is never blindfolded watched the doings of men upon the earth. She saw how the wicked artifices of villany were opposing and circumventing each other, and thus working out the swift punishment of short-sighted men, who sought to escape the punishment and retribution which always follows every infringement of God's everlasting laws, as surely as the shadow follows the walker, or the thunder succeeds the lightning's flash. (Continued at page 183.)
Want to portonev lis et ba CABINET PICTURES
FROM ENGLISH HISTORY.
CHAUCER AND SHAKSPERE, AND THEIR
"Musical as is Apollo's lute."
But Chaucer and Shakspeare only did this in poetry, for our prose literature did brightness until long after. English prose not shine forth with any considerable is the glory of modern times, but English poetry was the glory of the middle ages. standard narrative forms of English poetry The lyrical and more especially the originated with Chaucer, who modelled at once those kinds of verse which we now know to be the best suited to the distinctive character of our tongue. Here are a few are a fe examples of his verse—
"The busy lark, the messenger of day,
And kneeling piteously, to him she said, 'Peace, little son, I will do thee no harm With that, her coverchief off her head she took, And over his little eyen she it laid; And in her arms she lulleth it full fast, And into the heaven her eyen up she cast. 1 biex Sant This kind of stanza, with a little more complication, bears the name of the Spen serian stanza, because Spenser the poet wrote in it; but the proper name for it