“But they couldn’t have forgotten a thing that was making sounds at the very moment they left?”
“Aye, but they did though,” replied the woman. “The thing had been kept playin’ a’ the time they were drinking, and was playin’ when they paid their score, and the sound being drowned in the clatter o’ the payment, they had just forgotten it even as I did. It plays twa or three tunes,” she added, “and among the lave ‘The Blue-Bells of Scotland,’ a tune I aye liked, for ye ken I’m Scotch.”
“And I like it too,” replied I, “though I’m Irish; but do you know the lads?”
“Weel—I do, and I dinna. Ane o’ them has been here afore, and if you were to mention his name, I think I could tell you if it was the right ane.”
“Shields,” said I.
“The very name,” said she, “and if I kenned whaur he lived I would send the box to him.”
“I will save you that trouble, Mrs Devlin,” said I, as I put it in my pocket.
“I never took you for a thief, Mr M‘Levy,” said she, in a half humorous way. “I aye took ye for a thief catcher.”
“And it’s just to catch the thief I take the box,” said I. “You can speak to the men if I bring them here?”
“Brawly.”