mind, the necessity of implicitly obeying any instructions or hints he
might give me in the course of our adventure. "Remember," said he,
forcibly, "that the least deviation from them, will not only defeat our
object of removing Dawson, but even expose our lives to the most imminent
peril." I faithfully promised to conform to the minutest tittle of his
instructions.

We came to a stand of coaches. Jonson selected one, and gave the coachman
an order; he took care it should not reach my ears. During the half hour
we passed in this vehicle, Job examined and reexamined me in my "canting
catechism," as he termed it. He expressed himself much pleased with the
quickness of my parts, and honoured me with an assurance that in less
than three months he would engage to make me as complete a ruffler as
ever nailed a swell.

To this gratifying compliment I made the best return in my power.

"You must not suppose," said Jonson--some minutes afterwards, "from our
use of this language, that our club consists of the lower order of
thieves--quite the contrary: we are a knot of gentlemen adventurers who
wear the best clothes, ride the best hacks, frequent the best gaming
houses, as well as the genteelest haunts, and sometimes keep the first
company in London. We are limited in number: we have nothing in common
with ordinary prigs, and should my own little private amusements (as you
appropriately term them) be known in the set, I should have a very fair
chance of being expelled for ungentlemanlike practices. We rarely
condescend to speak "flash" to each other in our ordinary meetings, but
we find it necessary, for many shifts to which fortune sometimes drives
us. The house you are going this night to visit, is a sort of colony we
have established for whatever persons amongst us are in danger of blood-