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106 told you from the first. I wont shed blood ; it’s always found out, and haunts a man besides! If they shot him dead, I was not the cause; do you hear me?! Fire this infernal den !—what’s that ?” c What!” cried the Jew, grasping the coward round the body with both arms as he sprung to his feet. “ Where?” s Yonder!” replied the man, glaring at the opposite wall. " The shadow—l saw the shadow of a woman in a cloak and bonnet pass along the wainscot like a breath !” The Jew released his hold, and they rushed tumultuously from the room. The candle, wasted by the draught, was standing where it had been placed, and showed them the empty stair-cases, and their own white faces. They listened intently, but a profound silence reigned throughout the house. “It’s your fancy,” said the Jew, taking up the light, and turning to his companion. cé [711 swear I saw it!” replied Monks, trembling violently. “It was bending forward when I saw it first, and when Í spoke it darted away.” The Jew glanced contemptuously at the pale face of his associate, and, telling him he could follow if he pleased, ascended the stairs. They looked into all the rooms; they were cold, bare, and empty. They descended to the passage, and thence into the cellars below. The green damp hung upon the low walls, and the tracks of the snail and slug glistened in the light, but all was still as death. “+ What do you think now, my dear ?” said the Jew, when they had regained the passage. “ Besides ourselves, there ’s not a creature in the house except Toby and the boys, and they "re safe enough. See here !” As a proof of the fact, the Jew drew forth two keys from his pocket; and explained that when he first went down stairs he had locked them in, to prevent any intrusion on the conference. This accumulated testimony effectually staggered Mr. Monks. His protestations had gradually become less and less vehement as they proceeded in their search without making any discovery; and now he gave vent to several very grim laughs, and confessed it could only have been his excited imagination. He declined any renewal of the conversation however for that night, suddenly remembering that it was past one o’clock; and so the amiable couple parted. CHAPTER THE FIFTH Atones for the unpoliteness of a former chapter, which deserted a Lady most unceremoniously. As it would be by no means seemly in a humble author to keep so mighty a personage as a beadle waiting with his back to a fire, and the skirts of his coat gathered up under his arms, until such time as it might suit his pleasure to relieve him; and as it would still less become his station or his gallantry to involve in the same neglect a lady on whom that beadle had looked with an eye of tenderness and affection, and in whose ear he had whispered sweet words, which, coming from such a quarter, might well thrill the bosom of maid or matron of whatsoever degree; the faithful historian whose pen traces these words, trusting that he knows his place, and entertains a becoming reverence for those upon earth to whom high and important authority is delegated, hastens to pay them that respect which their position demands, and to treat them with all that duteous ceremony which their exalted rank and (by consequence) great virtues imperatively claim at his hands. Towards this end, indeed, he had purposed to introduce in this place a dissertation touching the divine right of beadles, and elucidative of the position that a beadle can do no wrong, which could not fail to have been both pleasurable and profitable to the right-minded reader, but which he is unfortunately compelled by want of time and space to postpone to some more convenient and fitting opportunity; on the arrival of which, he will be prepared to show that a beadle properly constituted—that is to say, a parochial beadle attached to the parochial workhouse, and attending in his official capacity the parochial church, —is, in right and virtue of his office, possessed of all the excellencies and best qualities of humanity; and that to none of those excellencies can mere companies’ beadles, or court-of-law beadles, or even chapel-of-ease beadles (save the last in a very lowly and inferior degree,) lay the remotest sustainable claim. Mr. Bumble had re-counted the teaspoons, re-weighed the sugar-tongs, made a closer inspection of the milk-pot, and ascertained to a nicety the exact condition of the furniture down to the very horse-hair seats of the chairs, and had repeated each process full halfa-dozen times, before he began to think that it was time for Mrs. Corney to return,
