"Well, Tom, with one imprudence and another, you stand a fair chance——"
"There, there! Don't preach, Charley. What you call imprudence, I call fun."
"What do you think of doing? To remain on here for ever in this disguise?"
"Couldn't, I expect, if I wanted to. I must soon see about getting away."
"You must get away at once."
"I am not going yet, Charley; take my word for that; and I am as safe in London, I reckon, as I should be elsewhere. Don't say but I may have to clear out of this particular locality. If that burly policeman is going to make a permanent beat of it about here, he might drop upon me some fine evening."
"And you must exchange your sailor's disguise, as you call it, for a better one."
"Perhaps so. That rough old coat you have on, Charley, might not come amiss to me."
"You can have it. Why do you fear that policeman should know you, more than any other?"
"He was present at the trial last August. Was staring me in the face most of the day. His name's Wren."