"Curse your reward!" exclaimed Kneebone, angrily. "Do you take me for a thief-catcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?"
"No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. "I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer."
"Be silent, and conceal yourself. I'm about to ring for supper."
The woollen-draper's application to the bell was answered by a very pretty young woman, with dark Jewish features, roguish black eyes, sleek glossy hair, a trim waist, and a remarkably neat figure: the very model, in short, of a bachelor's housekeeper.
"Rachel," said Mr. Kneebone, addressing his comely attendant; "put a few more plates on the table, and bring up whatever there is in the larder. I expect company."
"Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?"
"Company, child," repeated Kneebone. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh."
"Anything else, Sir?"
"No:—stay! you'd better not bring up any silver forks or spoons."
"Why, surely you don't think your guests would steal them," observed Rachel, archly.