“Yes; but you’d better not hask her to-night,” said Mr. Harkins, in the same cautious whisper. “Her son’s in prison, and sentenced to transportation for life for robbin’ the plate of the Hearl De Courcy. He’s goin’ off with a lot of hothers airly to-morrow mornin’. Now, don’t go exclaiming that way;” said Mr. Harkins, in a tone expressive of disgust, as he gave his companion a dig in the side.
“Poor thing! poor thing!” said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of sympathy. “Why, it’s too bad; it really is, Mr. Harkins.”
“Sarved him right, it’s my opinion,” said Mr. Harkins, sententiously. “Wot business had he for to go for to rob Hearl de Courcy, I want ter know? His mother, the hold lady ahind here, went and sot him up for a gentleman, and see wot’s come hof hit. She, a hold gipsy queen, goin’ and sendin’ her son to Heton with hall the young lordses, and baronetses, and dukeses, and makin’ believe he was somethin’ above the common. And now see what her fine gentleman’s gone and done and come to. Wonder wot she’ll think of herself, when she sees him takin’ a sea voyage for the good of his ’ealth at the ’spense of the government, to-morrow?”
“Poor thing! poor thing!” said Mr. Toosypegs, looking deeply sorry.
“Poor hold thing hindeed!” said Mr. Harkins, turning up his nose contemptuously. “Sarved ’im right, I say ag’in. That ’ere son o’ hern was the most stuck-hup chap I ever clapped my two blessed heyes on. Hafter he left Heton, I see’d ’im, one day, in the streets, hand guess who with? W’y, with nobody less than young Lord Williers, honly son o’ the Hearl De Courcy, as he has gone and robbed. There’s hingratitude for you! I didn’t know ’im then; but I ’cognized him hafterward in the court-room hat ’is trial.”
“How could he afford to go to Eton—he, a gipsy?” said Mr. Toosypegs, in surprise.
“Dunno! Hold woman sent ’im, I s’pose—’owever she got the money. He was a fine-looking fellow, too, I must say, though rayther tawny, but ’andsome as Lord Williers himself. Hold Ketura was ’andsome once, too; see’d ’er w’en she was a reg’lar hout-and-hout beauty; though you mightn’t think it now. Times changes folks, yer know,” said Mr. Harkins, in a moralizing tone.
“What made him steal, if his mother was so rich?” said Mr. Toosypegs.
“His mother wasn’t rich no more’n I be. S’pose she made enough tellin’ fortunes, poachin’, and stealin’ to pay fur’im at school; hand then when he growed hup, and his cash gave out, he took hand stole the hearl’s plate. He denied it hall hat ’is trial; but then they hall do that. By jingo! he looked fierce enough to knock the judge and jury, and all the rest on ’em, hinto the middle hof next week, hif not further, that day. ’Twas no go, though; hand hover the water he goes to-morrow.”
“Poor fellow! Mr. Harkins, I’m sorry for him—I really am,” said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of real sincerity.