“His letter-case!” says t’other. “What, and was there any bills in it?”
“Ay,” says he, “there was Sir Stephen Evans’s note in it for £300, and another goldsmith’s bill for about £12; and which is worse still for the gentleman, he had two foreign accepted bills in it for a great sum—I know not how much. I think one was a French bill for 1200 crowns.”
“And who could it be?” says the gentleman.
“Nobody knows,” says he; “but one of our room-keepers says he saw a couple of young rogues like that,” pointing at me, “hanging about here, and that on a sudden they were both gone.”
“Villains!” says he again. “Why, what can they do with them? They will be of no use to them. I suppose he went immediately and gave notice to prevent the payment.”
“Yes,” says the clerk, “he did; but the rogues were too nimble for him with the little bill of £12 odd money; they went and got the money for that, but all the rest are stopped. However, ’tis an unspeakable damage to him for want of his money.”
“Why, he should publish a reward for the encouragement of those that have them to bring them again; they would be glad to bring them, I warrant you.”
“He has posted it up at the door that he will give £30 for them.”
“Ay; but he should add that he will promise not to stop or give any trouble to the person that brings them.”
“He has done that too,” says he; “but I fear they won’t trust themselves to be honest, for fear he should break his word.”