"Land save us! 'Tis gentry sure enough they are," cried the inquisitive one. "Do-a look in there! Such clothes and laces, such a brand new wig, such silken hose! Law o' land! Must have cost all of forty crowns. Mary Cullen, right ye are; 'twas quality ye had with ye, even if 'twas but for little while."
"And them gone to prison, him on trial for his life! I saw un ride out this very yesterday, fast as though the devil was behind un, and a finer body of a man never did I look at in my life. What pity 'tis, what pity 'tis!"
"Well," said the apprentice, with a certain superiority in his air. "I dare wait no longer. My master said the gentleman was to have the clothes this very afternoon. So if to prison he be gone, to prison must I go too." Upon which he set off doggedly, and so removed one of the main causes for the assemblage at the curb.
The apprentice was hungry and weary enough before he reached the somber portals, yet his insistence won past gate-keeper and turnkey, one after another, till at length he reached the jailer who adjudged himself fit to pass upon the stolid demand that the messenger be admitted with the parcel for John Law, Esquire, late of Bradwell Street, marked urgent, and collect fifty sovereigns. The humor of all this appealed to the jailer mightily.
"Send him along," he said. And the boy came in, much dismayed but still faithful to his trust.
"Please, sir," said the youth, "I would know if ye have John Law, Esquire, in this place; and if so, I would see him. Master said I was not to bring back this parcel till that I had seen John Law, Esquire, and got from him fifty sovereigns. 'Tis for his wedding, sir, and the clothes are of the finest."
The jailer smiled grimly. "Mr. Law gets presents passing soon," said he. "Set down your box. It might be weapons or the like."
"Some clothes," said the apprentice. "Some very fine clothes. They are of our best."
"Ha! ha!" roared the jailer. "Here indeed be a pretty jest. Much need he'll have of fine clothes here. He'll soon take his coat off the rack like the rest, and happen it fits him, very well. Take back your box, boy—or stay, let's have a look in't."
The jailer was a man not devoid of wisdom. Fine clothes sometimes went with a long purse, and a long purse might do wonders to help the comfort of any prisoner in London, as well as the comfort of his keeper. Truly his eyes opened wide as he saw the contents of the box. He felt the lapel of the coat, passing it approvingly between his thumb and finger. "Well, e'en set ye down the box, lad," said he, "and wait till I see where Mr. Law has gone. Hum, hum! What saith the record? Charged that said prisoner did kill—hum, hum! Taken of said John Law six sovereigns, three shillings and sixpence. Item, one snuff-box, gilt. Hour of admission, five o'clock of the afternoon. We shall see, we shall see."