“As you say,” answered Harry, “and it is my humble opinion you are not entirely free from change.”

“Really, Harry, I don’t know what the box contains; however, ’t is confounded heavy.  It is full of gold or iron.”

“My face for a scrubber, if small change is n’t pretty much the contents; the fourpences and dimes lie pretty near together, friend Bill.”  “But,” continued Harry, “’t is best to secrete yourself, box and all, till the law dogs are silenced.  If they come here, I will throw them a bone; but hark!-”

The two remained silent; for the sound of approaching footsteps momentarily grew more distinct.  It sounded nearer, and now was in front of the door.

“To the closet,” whispered Harry; and in a moment Mr. Lang was the only occupant of the room.  He was right in his supposition; for the door opened; and the same man, in the same cloak, with the same consequential air, accompanied by others, entered abruptly, and interrogated Harry rather closely.  “Positively, I know nothing about him,” said Mr. Lang.  This declaration seemed to have a wonderful effect upon each of the officers.  They gazed steadfastly at him, then at each other, and their features indicated their belief in what he said.

“Benevolent as I am,” said the officer, “I must require a strict search;—­not that we suspect him to be on your premises, noble sir, but my duty demands it.”

The officer, having thus far declared what he thought to be his duty, proceeded to its performance by pushing open the doors through which egress could be had to the street, and all others.  As chance would have it, the right door was by them unobserved.  But where was the fugitive?  He had been hurried into a closet.  It was not after the manner of most closets.  It was about three feet square, at one side of which was a door communicating with the cellar, through which any person might pass, and from thence into the street.  He could not stand long and listen to the loud converse of those without.  He felt himself in danger if he remained, and determined upon leaving the closet.  So, having passed into the cellar, he entered the street.

The night was dark; the hour late, and no persons stirring.  Softly he crept beneath the window, and, perceiving none in the room but Harry, softly tapped the glass.  Mr. Lang raised his arm, by which signal Bill understood that he was aware of his having left the closet.  Then through back lanes, seldom pedestrianated, and narrow passages, he wended his way, with his stolen treasure closely held beneath the loose folds of his jacket.  He passed on, till, reaching a dark street, he beheld a dim light in a low oyster-cellar; he entered.  A black fellow was the proprietor, cook, &c.  Bill asked for lodgings.

“Well, massa, dem I ’ave; but I always take pay in advance from gemmen.”

Bill asked the price.

“Wall, ’tis fourpance on a chest, and threepance on de floor.”