runners upon our best hive. I should be stung to death before the week
was out. Even you, should you accompany me to-night, will never know
where the spot is situated, nor would you discover it again if you
searched all London, with the whole police at your back. Besides, Dawson
is not the only person in the house for whom the law is hunting--there
are a score others whom I have no desire to give up to the gallows--hid
among the odds and ends of the house, as snug as plums in a pudding. God
forbid that I should betray them, and for nothing too! No, your honour,
the only plan I can think of is the one I proposed; if you do not approve
of it, and it certainly is open to exception, I must devise some other:
but that may require delay."

"No, my good Job," replied I, "I am ready to attend you: but could we not
manage to release Dawson, as well as take his deposition?--his personal
evidence is worth all the written ones in the world."

"Very true," answered Job, "and if it be possible to give Bess the slip,
we will. However, let us not lose what we may get by grasping at what we
may not; let us have the confession first, and we'll try for the release
afterwards. I have another reason for this, Sir, which, if you knew as
much of penitent prigs as I do, you would easily understand. However, it
may be explained by the old proverb, of 'the devil was sick,' As long as
Dawson is stowed away in a dark hole, and fancies devils in every corner,
he may be very anxious to make confessions, which, in broad day-light,
might not seem to him so desirable. Darkness and solitude are strange
stimulants to the conscience, and we may as well not lose any advantage
they give us."

"You are an admirable reasoner," cried I, "and I am impatient to
accompany you--at what hour shall it be?"