“Nay, sir, but I won’t pretend to sleep in the house, if Franklin isn’t to have a blunderbuss, and I a baggonet.”
“You shall have both, indeed, Mrs. Pomfret; but don’t make such a noise, for everybody will hear you.”
The love of mystery was the only thing which could have conquered Mrs. Pomfret’s love of talking. She was silent, and contented herself the rest of the evening with making signs, looking ominous, and stalking about the house like one possessed with a secret.
Escaped from Mrs. Pomfret’s fears and advice, Mr. Spencer went to a shop within a few doors of the alehouse, which he heard Corkscrew frequented, and sent to beg to speak to the landlord. He came; and, when Mr. Spencer questioned him, confessed that Corkscrew and Felix were actually drinking in his house with two men of suspicious appearance; that, as he passed through the passage, he heard them disputing about a key; and that one of them said, “Since we’ve got the key, we’ll go about it to-night.” This was sufficient information. Mr. Spencer, lest the landlord should give them information of what was going forwards, took him along with him to Bow Street.
A constable and proper assistance was sent to Mrs. Churchill’s. They stationed themselves in a back parlour which opened on a passage leading to the butler’s pantry, where the plate was kept. A little after midnight they heard the hall door open. Corkscrew and his accomplices went directly to the pantry; and there Mr. Spencer and the constable immediately secured them, as they were carrying off their booty.
Mrs. Churchill and Pomfret had spent the night at the house of an acquaintance in the same street. “Well, ma’am,” said Mrs. Pomfret, who had heard all the news in the morning, “the villains are all safe, thank God. I was afraid to go to the window this morning; but it was my luck to see them all go by to gaol. They looked so shocking! I am sure I never shall forget Felix’s look to my dying day! But poor Franklin! ma’am; that boy has the best heart in the world. I could not get him to give a second look at them as they passed. Poor fellow! I thought he would have dropped; and he was so modest, ma’am, when Mr. Spencer spoke to him, and told him he had done his duty.”
“And did my brother tell him what reward I intend for him?”
“No, ma’am, and I’m sure Franklin thinks no more of reward than I do.”
“I intend,” continued Mrs. Churchill, “to sell some of my old useless plate, and to lay it out in an annuity for Franklin’s life.”
“La, ma’am!” exclaimed Mrs. Pomfret, with unfeigned joy, “I’m sure you are very good; and I’m very glad of it.”