The Mysteries of the Court of London by Pauline Clarendon — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE FLIGHT AND THE PURSUIT 15 ‘““ Lord bless ye, sir, if we was to be on’y half so partickler as that, we should never do no bisness,’’ said the constable; “should us, Bill Sneesby? ” “ You're about right, Mr. Grint,” responded the individual thus blandly appealed to. ‘‘ Our vay is to knock folks down fust and take ’em up arterward. If so be we’ve nailed the right uns, then there’s no harm done; but if so be we’ve got the wrong sow by the ear, we apologizes — and there’s an end on’t.”’ “‘ And suppose that in this last case,’’ observed Mr. Page, “the innocent persons whom you ve treated so roughly don’t choose to be satisfied with an excuse? ”’ ‘Then we locks ’em up for interfering with us in the exe- cution of our dooty,’”’ was Grint’s prompt reply. “Ah! I understand,” exclaimed the commercial trav- eller, whose opinion of the morality of the two constables was not improved by this avowal. Wishing, therefore, to change the conversation, — which, we should observe, he had himself frequently interrupted by thrusting his head forth from the window to see if the yellow coach was in sight, — he said, ‘‘ I suppose you are constables from Ayles- bury? ”’ “ Just so, sir,” replied Grint; ‘‘ and on coming up to town just now, we happened to meet a friend of our’n wot lives at Aylesbury and had been in London for the last week or so. Well, we got into talk together — and then we had summat to drink — and it was nat’ral enough that me and my partner here should tell him all about Sir Richard, ’cos he hadn’t heard a word on it afore; as how should he? seeing that it on’y happened last night, and a matter of forty mile away from town. Well, sir, after he’d recovered hisself a bit — for he was struck quite stupid, as one may say — he says, says he, ° Mr. Grint, if ever I see Sir Richard Stamford in all my life, I saw him only a few minutes before I met you. He was in his cloak; and he turned into the George and Blue Boar, Holborn.’ This was quite enough for Bill Sneesby and me; and it was fortunate we hadn’t told our Aylesbury friend about the reward — or else he’d have wanted to go sheers — ”’ ‘ Here we are at the Edgeware Road!” suddenly cried Page. ‘Then thrusting his head out of the window, he ex- claimed to the driver, “ Push along, my man — don’t spare CONnnicloool|Ks (GO)