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 quarrelling 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?