immediately, and sending the same up, along with our handiwork, directed in his own handwriting, to our estimable correspondents in London.  When you have all seen him do this of his own free will, and thereby put his own life as completely within the power of the law as we have put ours, you will know that he is really one of us, and will be under no apprehensions for the future.  Take great pains with him, and as soon as he turns out a tolerably neat article, from the simple flatted plates, under your inspection, let me know.  I shall take a few hours’ repose on my camp-bed in the study, and shall be found there whenever you want me.”

He nodded to us all round in the most friendly manner, and left the room.

I looked with considerable secret distrust at the four gentlemen who were to instruct me in the art of making false coin.  Young File was the workman-like footman; Old File was his father; Mill and Screw were the two sinister artisans.  The man of the company whose looks I liked least was Screw.  He had wicked little twinkling eyes—­and they followed me about treacherously whenever I moved.  “You and I, Screw, are likely to quarrel,” I thought to myself, as I tried vainly to stare him out of countenance.

I entered on my new and felonious functions forthwith.  Resistance was useless, and calling for help would have been sheer insanity.  It was midnight; and, even supposing the windows had not been barred, the house was a mile from any human habitation.  Accordingly, I abandoned myself to fate with my usual magnanimity.  Only let me end in winning Alicia, and I am resigned to the loss of whatever small shreds and patches of respectability still hang about me—­such was my philosophy.  I wish I could have taken higher moral ground with equally consoling results to my own feelings.

The same regard for the well-being of society which led me to abstain from entering into particulars on the subject of Old Master-making, when I was apprenticed to Mr. Ishmael Pickup, now commands me to be equally discreet on the kindred subject of Half-Crown-making, under the auspices of Old File, Young File, Mill, and Screw.

Let me merely record that I was a kind of machine in the hands of these four skilled workmen.  I moved from room to room, and from process to process, the creature of their directing eyes and guiding hands.  I cut myself, I burned myself, I got speechless from fatigue, and giddy from want of sleep.  In short, the sun of the new day was high in the heavens before it was necessary to disturb Doctor Dulcifer.  It had absolutely taken me almost as long to manufacture a half-a-crown feloniously as it takes a respectable man to make it honestly.  This is saying a great deal; but it is literally true for all that.

Looking quite fresh and rosy after his night’s sleep, the doctor inspected my coin with the air of a schoolmaster examining a little boy’s exercise; then handed it to Old File to put the finished touches and correct the mistakes.  It was afterward returned to me.  My own hand placed it in one of the rouleaux of false half-crowns; and my own hand also directed the spurious coin, when it had been safely packed up, to a certain London dealer who was to be on the lookout for it by the next night’s mail.  That done, my initiation was so far complete.