"Very well!" said the functionary, rising solemnly, and pulling out a
note-book--"Scar under left eye, nose a little twisted to the right, bad
chilblains on the hands. You'll keep till next time, young man. Now,
you fat gentleman up there, have you done a qualifying of yourself for
Newgate?"
The old man had ran up-stairs again, and was hugging his son; but when the
policeman lifted Downes, he rushed back to his victim, and begged, like a
great school-boy, for leave to "bet him joost won bit moor."
"Let me bet un! I'll pay un!--I'll pay all as my son owes un! Marcy me!
where's my pooss?" And so on raged the Babel, till we got the two poor
fellows safe out of the house. We had to break open the door to do it,
thanks to that imp of Israel.
"For God's sake, take us too!" almost screamed five or six other voices.
"They're all in debt--every onesh; they sha'n't go till they paysh, if
there's law in England," whined the old Jew, who had re-appeared.
"I'll pay for 'em--I'll pay every farden, if so be as they treated my boy
well. Here, you, Mr. Locke, there's the ten pounds as I promised you.
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