“Sirrah,” said the jailer, “there be rules of this place, as you very well know.  Your little chamber was to have been in corridor number four, number twelve of the left aisle.  But, sir, as perhaps you know, there be rules which are rules, and rules which are not so much—­that is to say—­rules, as you might put it, sir.  The main thing is that I produce your body on the day of the hearing, which cometh soon.  Meantime, since you seem a gentleman, and are in for no common felony, but charged, as I might say, with a light offense, why, sir, in such a case, I might say that a gentleman like yourself, if he cared to wear a bit of good clothes and wear it here in the parlor like, why, sir, I can see no harm in it.  And that’s competent to prove, as the judge says.”

“Very well, then,” said Law, “I’ll e’en deck out with the gear I should have had to-night had I been free; though I fear my employment this evening will scarce be pleasing as that which I had planned.  Will, had I had but one more night at the Green Lion, we’d e’en have needed a special chair to carry home my winnings of their English gold.”

Enter then, a few moments later, “Beau” Law, “Jessamy” Law, late of Edinboro’, gentleman, and a right gallant figure of a man.  Tall he was indeed, and, so clad, making a picture of superb manhood.  Ease and grace he showed in every movement.  His long fingers closed lightly at top of a lacquered cane which he had found within the box.  Deep ruffles of white hung down from his wrists, and a fall of wide lace drooped from the bosom of his ruffled shirt.  His wig, deep curled and well whitened, gave a certain austerity to his mien.  At his instep sparkled new buckles of brilliants, rising above which sprang a graceful ankle, a straight and well-rounded leg.  The long lapels of his rich coat hung deep, and the rich waistcoat of plum-colored satin added slimness to a torso not too bulky in itself.  Neat, dainty, fastidious, “Jessamy” Law, late of Edinboro’, for some weeks of London, and now of a London prison, scarce seemed a man about to be put on trial for his life.

He advanced from the door of the side room with ease and dignity.  Reaching out a snuff-box which he had found in the silken pocket of his new garment, he extended it to the turnkey with an indifferent gesture.

“Kindly have it filled with maccaboy,” he said.  “See, ’tis quite empty, and as such, ’tis useless.”

“Certainly, Captain Law,” said the turnkey.  “I am a man as knows what a gentleman likes, and many a one I’ve had here in my day, sir.  As it chances, I’ve a bit of the best in my own quarters, and I’ll see that you have what you like.”

“Will,” said Law to his brother, who had scarce moved during all this, “come, cheer up!  One would think ’twas thyself was to be inmate here, and not another.”

Will Law burst into tears.

“God knows, ’twere better myself, and not thee, Jack,” he said.