“Humph!” ejaculated the inspector, when I had finished, “I dare say you will not get more than seven years.”
“Seven years, sir!” cried Esau. “What for? Old Demp ought to get it, not us.”
“You must tell the Lord Mayor that, or the alderman, to-morrow.”
“But are we going to be kept in prison, sir?” I asked, with my courage sinking.
“You are going to be locked up here till tomorrow, of course. Like to have a good wash?”
Of course we said “Yes,” and before long we looked fairly respectable again, with the exception of scratches, bruises, and the ugly cut I had on my ear.
The thing that encouraged me most was the way in which I saw the inspector and constable exchange a smile, while later on they and the other constables about gave us a good tea with bread and butter and meat, and we had to tell all our adventures again before we were locked up for the night, after refusing an offer that was made.
“Think we ought to have sent?” said Esau, as we sat together alone.
“I have no one I could send to but Mr John, and I shouldn’t like to do that,” I said, as I wondered the while whether he would be very angry.
“And I’ve got nobody but mother,” said Esau, “and that’s what made it so queer.”