"Please, your worship," said the first, "I have known Mr. Rainford the last four years; and a more respectable man does not exist. He came up to London to buy a couple of horses of me; and he was to pay ready money. My name's Watkins, your worship; and I've kept livery and bait stables in Great Queen Street, Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, for the last seventeen years."
"And I, your worship," said the other person, in his turn, "can answer for Mr. Rainford. If you doubt my respectability, your worship, send one of your officers round to Compton Street, and see if the name of Bertinshaw isn't painted up in precious large letters over the best jeweller's shop——"
"And pawnbroker's," interrupted Mr. Dykes significantly.
"Well—and pawnbroker's, too," added Bertinshaw: "I'm not ashamed of the calling."
"Then you are both prepared to guarantee the prisoner's appearance at any future time?" said the magistrate.
"Certainly, your worship," was the joint reply.
"To answer any charge that may be brought against him?" continued Sir Walter.
The response was again in the affirmative on the part of Watkins and Bertinshaw.
The magistrate stated the amount of the recognizances which were to be entered into, and Tom Rain was desired to stand down from the dock.
This intimation he obeyed with the same air of calm indifference which had characterized him throughout the proceedings, and which had only been for a moment disturbed by the profound astonishment he had experienced when two men, whom he had never before seen nor even heard of in his life, stepped forward to give him so excellent a character and become his bail. But a moment's reflection convinced him that Old Death was the unseen friend who worked the machinery of this manœuvre.