Then the women sang songs, and Mr. Banks told a number of anecdotes showing how he was enabled to undertake funerals at a cheaper rate than many of his competitors, because he had always taken care to league himself with body-snatchers, to whom he gave information of a nature serviceable to them, and for which they were well contented to pay a handsome price. Thus, whenever he was intrusted with the interment of a corpse which he fancied would make a "good subject," he communicated with his friends the resurrectionists, and in a night or two the body was exhumed for the benefit of some enterprising surgeon.
In this manner the time slipped away;—hour after hour passed; supper was served up; "another glass, and another pipe," was the order of the evening; and although these three men sate drinking and smoking to an immoderate degree, they rose from their chairs, at half-past eleven o'clock, but little the worse for their debauch.
The Resurrection Man filled a flask with pure gin, and consigned it to his pocket.
"We must now be off," he said. "You, Banks, can go home and get the cart ready: the Buffer and me will go our way."
"At what time shall I come with the cart?" demanded the undertaker.
"At a quarter past one to a second—neither more nor less," answered Tidkins.
Banks then took his departure.
"Are you going to stay here with Meg, or what?" asked the Buffer of his wife.
"I shall go to bed," said the Rattlesnake hastily. "Tony can take the key with him."
"Then I shall be off home," observed Moll. "Besides, Mrs. Smith may think it odd if we both remain out so late."