witnessed so many apparently pleasant results arising from it,so many little luxuries at other tables, and by other firesides, thatthe law that debarred her from these things had often seemed a hard lawto her. Nevertheless for her mother's sake she loved that law, andwould have died sooner than have broken it.
Dick had loved it also. Dick and she had many a conversation, when theysat over the embers in the grate last winter, on the virtues of honesty.
In the end they felt sure honesty would pay.
And Dick told her lots of stories about the boys who snatched things offthe old women's stalls, or carried bread out of the bakers' shops; andhowever juicy those red apples were, and however crisp and brown thosenice fresh loaves, the boys who took them had guilty looks, had downcastfaces, and had constant fear of the police in their hearts.
And Dick used to delight his sister by informing her how, ragged andhungry as he was, he feared nobody, and how intensely he enjoyed staringa "p'leece-man" out of countenance.
But to-night Dick had been afraid of the "p'leece." Tears rolled downFlo's cheeks at the thought. How she wished she had never tasted that'ot roast goose, but had supped instead off the dry crust in thecupboard!
"I'm feared as mother won't lay com'fable to-night," she sobbed, "thatis, ef mother knows. Oh! I wish as Dick wasn't a thief. S'pose as itdisturbs mother; and she was so awful tired." The little girl sobbedbitterly, longing vainly that she had stayed at home in her dark cellar,that she had never gone with Dick to Regent Street, had never seen thosefine dresses and feathers, those grand ladies and gentlemen, above all,that in her supposing she had not soared so high, that she had beencontent to be a humble hearl's wife, and had not wished to be the queen;for when Flo had seen the great queen of England going by, then musthave been the moment when Dick first learned to be a thief.
CHAPTER FOUR.
A DOG AND HIS STORY.
If ever a creature possessed the knowledge which is designated"knowing," the dog Scamp was that creature. It shone out of his eyes,it shaped the expression of his countenance, it lurked in every cornerand crevice of his brain. His career previous to this night wasinfluenced by it, his career subsequent to this night was actuated byit.
Only once in all his existence did it desert him, and on that occasionhis life was the forfeit. But as then it was a pure and simple case ofheart preponderating over head, we can scarcely blame the dog, or denyhim his full share of the great intellect which belongs to the knowingones.
On this evening he was reaping the fruits of his cleverness. He hadjust partaken of a most refreshing meal, he had wormed himself into whatto him were very fair quarters, and warmed, fed, and comforted, wassleeping sweetly. By birth he was a mongrel, if not a pure untaintedstreet cur; he was shabby, vulgar, utterly ugly and common-placelooking.
He had however good eyes and teeth, and both these advantages of naturehe was not slow in availing himself of.
By the pathos of his eyes, and a certain knack he had of balancinghimself on the hinder part of his body, he had won Flo's pity, andsecured a shelter and a home. He guessed very accurately the feelingsof his hosts and hostess towards him.
Dick's hospitality was niggardly and forced, Jenks made him welcome tohis supper, for he regarded him with an eye to business, but Flo gavehim of her best, from pure kindness of heart. The wise dog thereforeresolved to take no notice of Dick, to avoid Jenks, and as much aspossible to devote himself to Flo.
He had passed through a terrible day, had Scamp.
In the morning he had been led out to execution. To avoid the dog-tax,his master, who truth to tell had never regarded him with muchaffection, had decreed that Scamp should be drowned. In vain had thepoor faithful creature, who loved his brutal master, notwithstanding thecruel treatment to which he so often subjected him, looked in his facewith all the pathetic appeal of his soft brown eyes, in vain he lickedhis hand as he fastened the rope with a stone attached to it round hisneck. Drowned he was to be, and drowned he would have been, but for hisown unequalled knowingness. Scamp guessed what was coming, hence thatappeal in his eyes; but Scamp was prepared for his fate, rather he wasprepared to resist his fate.
As his master was about to raise him in his arms and fling him far intothe stream, he anticipated him, and leaped gently in himself, when, thestone being round his neck, he sank at once to the bottom.
His master, well pleased, and thinking how nicely he had "done" Scamp,laughed aloud, and walked away. The dog, not wasting his breath in anyuseless struggles, heard the laugh as he lay quietly in the bottom ofthe stream, he heard also the retreating footsteps.
Now was _his_ time.
He had managed to sink so near the edge of the stream as to be barelyout of his depth, he dragged himself upright, pulled and lurched theheavy stone until his head was above water, and then biting through therope with those wonderful teeth, was a free dog once more.
Quite useless for him to go home; he must turn his back on that shelter,and come what may, face the great world of London.
So all day long he had wandered, foot-sore, exhausted, and hungry, overmany a mile of street, until at last the smell of hot roast goose had soovercome him, that he had in his desperation fastened his teeth intoDick's trousers, thereby ultimately securing for himself a supper, andanother home.
Now after all his troubles, hardships, and alarms, he was sleepingsweetly, enjoying the repose of the weary. It was unpleasant to bedisturbed, it was truly annoying to have to open those heavy brown eyes,but Scamp had a heart, and sobs of distress had roused him from hispleasant dreams. He cocked his ears, stretched himself, rose, andpushing his big awkward head against Flo's, bent low in her hands, beganlicking her face with his small, rough tongue.
Finding she took no notice of this, he forced her to look up and attendto him, by jumping wholesale into her lap.
"Oh! Scamp," said the child, putting her arms round him, "does _you_know as Dick isn't an honest boy no more."
Had Scamp comprehended the words addressed to him, he would not haveconsidered them a subject for sorrow, as any means by which such asupper as they had just eaten was attained would have been thought byhim quite justifiable.
It was however his wisest course at present to sympathise with Flo, andthis he did by means of his tail, tongue, and eyes.
"Oh! you _be_ a nice dawg," said the little girl, comforted by hiscaressing.
She laid her head on his shaggy coat, and in a few moments both wereasleep.
Two hours later Jenks and Dick returned. Dick's cheeks were nowflushed, and his eyes bright. Jenks, on the contrary, was as cool asusual.
"Shall we take orf the dawg now, or in the mornin'?" asked the littleboy of his companion.
"No, no, in the mornin', or maybe to-morrow night; old Maxey's sure terbe shut up afore now."
"How much 'ull he give us, Jenks?"
"Well, Scamp's a likely lookin' tyke, and good size. I 'spect he'llabout suit fur 'is young 'un. Maybe, ef we're lucky, we may get amatter o' a bob, or a bob and a tanner, but wot I'll count on more, andbargain fur, is a sight o' the fight."
"Oh, Jenks! is it werry jolly?"
"Awful--real pretty sport," said Jenks, "partic'lar ef yer cur 'ave abit of blood in 'im, as I 'spects this 'un 'ave."
"Will you bring me to see it, Jenks?"
"I can't rightly say yet, but don't tell nothink to the little 'un,"jerking his thumb over his shoulders at Flo. "Now come to bed, anddon't let us talk no more."
They lay down, and soon Jenks was asleep.
Yes, Jenks was asleep--his hardened heart knew no fears, his consciencedid not trouble him. Flo, wearied with her sorrow, was also slumbering,and gentle breathings of sweet content and rest came from Scamp, whoknew nothing of his impending fate, and felt that he had done his duty.
But Dick could not sleep; he lay in the dark tired enough, but wideawake and trembling.
On that very bed in this cellar had lain not quite a year ago the still,stiff, and cold form of his mother;
of the mother who, with her thinarms round his neck, and her beseeching eyes looking into his, hadbegged of him to keep from bad ways, and to be honest.
He had promised that never, happen what might, would he touch what wasnot his own, he had promised her solemnly, as even such ignorant littlechildren will promise their dying mothers, that he would ever and alwaysbe an honest boy; and until to-day he had kept his word bravely, kept ittoo in the midst of very great temptations, for he was only a StreetArab, a gutter child, living on his wits, and for such children to liveon their wits without prigging off stalls and snatching off counters, isvery hard work indeed. He was such a clever little fellow too, and hadsuch a taking innocent face, that he could have made quite a niceliving, and have had, as he expressed it, quite