“Good night, my man; you will sleep sounder without the care and fear of this stolen watch than with it.”
This bit of sentiment struck him.
“Well, I believe I will,” he said, with a little thickening of the windpipe; “I’ll have nothing more to do with stolen property. I have never been happy since I got possession of it.”
In a short time, I was before Mr Moxey again, whose letters threatened to terminate in night-work.
“Put that to the rest,” said I; “the want is supplied,—thirty-two and eighteen make up the fifty, I believe.”
“You are refined, James,” said he; and perhaps he would not have said it if he had known the story of the old complaint, which for the time I kept to myself. Self-love has its weaknesses. If I had told my device, I might have gratified my vanity; but my trick would have become common property, and thereby lost its charm.
After my day’s work, I went home, and was soon asleep.
I acquired a little honour in this matter, although I considered it was not much more than apprentice-work. I had no objection, however, that my brother bluecoats of the bonny toun should see that M‘Levy had not lost the keenness of his scent for such secreted articles as those stolen watches; and this shews that we have our little drops of enjoyment amidst our cares and anxieties, ay, and dangers, and, thank God, happiness is a comparative affair. The word “danger” suggests a few words. I have often been asked, “M‘Levy, were you never hurt?” My answer being no,—“M‘Levy, was you ever afraid?” My answer the same, though I have been amidst glittering knives before now, ay, and fiery eyes, brighter than the knives; but I early saw that a bold front is the best baton. A detective is done the moment his eye quivers or his arm falters. If firm, there is no risk, or if any, it is from the cowards. A brave thief has something like an understanding of the relation he bears to the laws and its officers. He has a part to play, and he plays it with something so much like the honour of the Honeycombs at cards or dice, that it would surprise you. These latter, to be sure, are only sliders too, and the end of their descent is often deeper than that of their humble brethren of the pea and thimble.
I have only to add, that my men were forthwith brought to trial. The real pith of my histories is to me the end; yes, all their charm to me lies in the tail, although others, and you may readily guess who they are, may think that the sting lies there. I would not, however, give the fact that Clerk got his seven years, and Mitchell his eighteen months as a resetter, for all the eclat accorded to any ingenuity I had displayed in bringing about these happy consummations.