And the words were scarcely out of my mouth, when we received gratefully our friends in our arms. The dead hens were flung away, and darting at the throats of my two charges, I secured them on the instant. Mulholland lost his hold, but so pleased was I at my capture, especially of Andrew, that I could not resist a few words in my old way.
“I was afraid you would fall and break your neck, Andrew,” said I.
“Thank you for the warm reception,” replied the cool rogue, as he recovered breath after the short tussle.
“No apology,” said I. “I have told you by a hundred looks that I wanted you.”
“And sold for a hen at last,” he added, with an oath.
“And not allowed to eat it,” said I. “What a glorious supper you and the old woman would have had!”
The taunt was at least due to his oath.
“Pick up the hens, Mulholland,” said I, “and let us march, we will have a laugh in the High Street.”
And proceeding with my man in each hand till I came to the head of the close, I gave one of them in charge of a constable, retaining the other. Mulholland with the hens brought up the rear, and I believe we cut a good figure in our march, if I could judge from the shouts of the urchins—tickled with a kind of walking anecdote, that carried its meaning so clearly in the face of it, for it is seldom that the booty makes its appearance in these processions.
On arriving at the Office, my charges were locked up. Toppen was caught the same evening; and this part of my story of the metamorphosis being so far prelusive, I may just say that my hen-stealers were forthwith tried by the Sheriff and a jury. Each got the price of his hen even at a higher rate than the present price of a fashionable cockerel—Ireland getting nine months, Templeton six, and Toppen four. But the Climber vindicated his great reputation in a manner that entitled him to still greater fame. Whether it was that the jailer was not made aware of his abilities, or that he was placed in a cell which it was held to be impossible for any creature without claws on all the four members to get out of, I cannot say; but true it is that, to the utter amazement of every one connected with the jail, Andrew Ireland got out by the skylight, and finding his way over ridges and down descents that might have defied an Orkney eagle-hunter, descended at the north back of the Canongate, and got clear off.