"That's what I want to know, ma'am. Excuse me; I don't wish to disparage
Mr. Losely,--a dashing gent, and nothing worse, I dare say. But certain
sure I am that he has put into Samuel Dolly's head something which has
cracked it! There is the lad now up and dressed, when he ought to be in
bed, and swearing he'll go to old Latham's to-morrow, and that long
arrears of work are on his conscience! Never heard him talk of
conscience before: that looks guilty! And it does not frighten him any
longer when I say he shall go to prison for his debts; and he's very
anxious to get me out of Lunnon; and when I threw in a word about Mr.
Losely (slyly, my good lady,--just to see its effect), he grew as white
as that paper; and then he began strutting and swelling, and saying that
Mr. Losely would be a great man, and he should be a great man, and that
he did not care for my money; he could get as much money as he liked.
That looks guilty, my dear lady. And oh," cried Uncle Sam, clasping his
hands, "I do fear that he's thinking of something worse than he has ever
done before, and his brain can't stand it. And, ma'am, he has a great
respect for you; and you've a friendship for Mr. Losely. Now, just
suppose that Mr. Losely should have been thinking of what your flash
sporting gents call a harmless spree, and my sister's son should, being
cracky, construe into something criminal. Oh, Mrs. Crane, do go and see
Mr. Losely, and tell him that Samuel Dolly is not safe,--is not safe!"

"Much better that I should go to your nephew," said Mrs. Crane; "and with
your leave I will do so at once. Let me see him alone. Where shall I
find you afterwards?"

"At the Gloucester Coffee-house. Oh, my dear lady, how can I thank you
enough? The boy can be nothing to you; but to me, he's my sister's son,
--the blackguard!"