And here Mr. Alibi slipped a crown-piece into the artfully extended palm of the policeman, who said:
“It ain’t nothin’ to do wi’ me; but the gentleman’s quite right, the Crown pays.” And he dropped the money into his leather purse, which he rolled up carefully and placed in his pocket.
“You see,” said Alibi, “I act as the Public Prosecutor, who can’t be expected to do everything—you can’t grind all the wheat in the country in one mill, that stands to common sense.”
“That be right, that’s werry good,”
“And,” continued Mr. Alibi, “the Government
allows two guineas for counsel, a guinea for the solicitor, and so on, and the witnesses, don’t you see?”
“Zactly!” said Bumpkin.
“And that’s quite enough,” continued Alibi; “we don’t want anything from the prosecutor—that’s right, policeman!”
“It ain’t nothink to do wi’ me,” said the policeman; “but what this ’ere gentleman says is the law.”
“There,” said Alibi, “I told you so.”