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Chapter Five.
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A Night of Adventures.
According to arrangement, David Laidlaw was taken the following evening by his landlord, Mr Spivin, to see one of the low lodging-houses of London.
Our adventurous Scot had often read and heard that some of the low quarters of London were dangerous for respectable men to enter without the escort of the police, but his natural courage and his thorough confidence in the strength of his bulky frame inclined him to smile at the idea of danger. Nevertheless, by the advice of his new friend the landlord, he left his watch and money, with the exception of a few coppers, behind him—carefully stowed under the pillow of his bed in his shoulder-bag. For further security the door of his room was locked and the key lung on a nail in an out-of-the-way corner, known only, as Mr Spivin pointed out, to “their two selves.”
“But hoo dis it happen, Mr Speevin,” asked David, as they walked along the streets together, “that ye can gang safely amang the thieves withoot a polisman t’ proteck ye?”
“Oh, as to that,” replied the jolly landlord, “I’m connected with a religious society which sends agents down among them poor houtcasts to convert ’em. They hall knows me, bless you. But I ain’t a-goin’ with you myself. You see, I’m a very busy man, and engagements which I ’ad forgotten prevents me, but I’ve made an arrangement with one o’ the converted thieves to take you to a few of the worst places in London. Of course he can pass you hevery where as one of his friends.”
To this David made no reply, save with a slight “Humph!” as he looked earnestly at his companion. But Mr Spivin wore an expression of seraphic candour.
“Here he is,” added the landlord, as they turned a corner and drew near to a man in mean attire, who seemed to be waiting for some one. “He’s rather disreputable to look at, only just been converted, an’ not ’avin’ ’ad the chance yet to better himself.—But—hallo!—you seem to know him.”
The last exclamation and remark were called forth by the look of surprise on Laidlaw’s face, and the air almost of alarm on that of the mean-looking man—alarm which was by no means unnatural, seeing that he was none other than the fellow who had attempted to rob our Scotsman the previous night.
David, however, was quick to recover himself. “Know him!” he cried, with a hearty laugh, “ay, I ken him weel. I lent him a helpin’ haund last nicht, no’ far frae here.”
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Chapter Four.
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Chapter Six.
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