AMONG THIEVES.
The night fell early, for a thick fog came on in the afternoon. Tony
cowered down upon his broom under the wall where Dolly had sat in the
sunshine all the morning to watch him sweep his crossing. It was all over
now. She was lost to him; for he should never dare to go back to old
Oliver's house, and face that terrible old woman again. There was nothing
for him but to return to his old life and his old haunts; and a chill ran
through him, body and spirit, as he thought of it. His heap of paper
shavings under the counter, where the biting winds could not reach him,
came to his mind, and the tears rushed to his eyes. But to-night, at
least, there would be no need to sleep out of doors, for he had some
money in the safest corner of his ragged pocket, tied up in it securely
with a bit of string. He could afford to pay for a night's lodging, and
he knew very well where he could get one.
About nine o'clock Tony turned his weary feet towards a slum he knew
of in Westminster, where there was a cellar open to everybody who could
pay two-pence for a night's shelter. His heart was very full and heavy
with resentment against his enemy, and a great longing to see Dolly. He
loitered about the door of the cellar, reluctant and almost afraid to
venture in; for it was so long since he had been driven to any of these
places that he felt nearly like a stranger among them. Besides, in former
times he had been kicked, and beaten, and driven from the fire, and
fought with by the bigger boys; and he had become unaccustomed to such
treatment of late. How different this lodging-house was to the quiet
peaceful home where Dolly knelt down every evening at her grandfather's
knee, and prayed for him; for now she always put Tony's name into her
childish prayers! He should never, never hear her again, nor see old
Oliver seated in his arm-chair, smoking his long pipe, while he talked
with that strange friend and master of his. Ah! he would never hear or
know any more of that unseen Christ, who was so willing to be his master
and friend, for the Lord Jesus Christ could never come into such a wicked
place as this, which was the only home he had. He had given him the
crossing and the broom, and that was the end of it. He must take care of
himself now, and keep out of gaol if he could, and if not, why then he
had better make a business of thieving, and become as good a pickpocket
as "Clever Dog Tom," who had once stolen a watch from a policeman
himself.
Clever Dog Tom was the first to greet Tony when he slipped in at last,
and he seemed inclined to make much of him; but Tony was too troubled
for receiving any consolation from Tom's friendly advances. He crept
away into the darkest corner, and stretched himself on the thin straw
which covered the damp and dirty floor, but he could not fall asleep.
There was a good deal of quarreling among the boys, and the men who
wished to sleep swore long and loudly at them. Then there followed a
fight, which grew so exciting at last that every person in the place,
except Tony, gathered about the boys in a ring, encouraging and cheering
them. It was long after midnight before silence and rest came, and then
he fell into a broken slumber, dreaming of Dolly and old Oliver, until
he awoke and found his face wet with tears. He got up before any of his
bed-fellows were aroused, and made his way out into the fresh keen air
of a December morning.
Day after day went by, and night after night Tony was growing more
indifferent again to the swearing and fighting of his old comrades. He
began to listen with delight to the tales of Clever Dog Tom, who told him
that hands like his would work well in his line, and his innocent-looking
face would go a long way towards softening any judge and jury, or would
bring him favour with the chaplain, and easy times in gaol. He kept his
crossing still, and did tolerably well, earning enough to keep himself in
food, and to pay for his night's shelter; but he was beginning to hanker
after something more. If he could not be good, and be on the same side as
old Oliver and Dolly, he thought it would be better to be altogether on
the other side, like Tom, who dressed well, and lived well, and was
looked up to by other boys. It was a week after he had left old Oliver's
house, and he was about to leave his crossing for the night, when a
gentleman stopped him suddenly, and looked keenly into his face.
"Hollo, my lad!" he said, "you're the boy I gave fourpence to a week
ago for holding my horse. I told you to lay it out well. What did you
do with it?"
"Me and Dolly bought this broom," he answered, "and I've kept this
crossing ever since."
"Well done!" said the gentleman. "And who is Dolly?"
"It's a little girl as I was very fond of," replied Tony, with a deep
sigh. It seemed so long ago that he spoke of his love for her as if it
was a thing altogether passed away and dead, yet his heart still ached at
the memory of it.
"Well, here's another fourpenny-bit for you," said his friend, "quite a
new one. See how bright it is; no one has ever bought anything with it
yet. Dolly will like to see it."
Tony held it in the palm of his hand long after the gentleman was out of
sight, gazing at it in the lamplight. It was very beautiful and shining;
and oh! how Dolly's eyes would shine and sparkle if she could only see
it! And she ought to see it. By right it belonged to her; for had he not
given her his first fourpenny-piece freely, and had twenty kisses for it,
and then had she not given it him back to buy a broom with? she had never
had a single farthing of all his earnings. How he would like to show her
this beautiful piece of silver, and feel her soft little arms round his
neck, when he said it was to be her very own! He felt that he dare not
pass the night in the cellar with such a treasure about him, for Tom, who
was so clever, would be sure to find out that his pocket was worth the
picking, and Tony had not found that there was much honour among thieves.
What was he to do? Where was he to go?