David groaned. The ways of thieving were not ways of pleasantness. Oh,
why had he an idiot brother? Oh, why, in general, was the world so
constituted that a man could not take his mother's guineas comfortably?
David became grimly speculative.

Copious dinner at noon for Jacob; but little dinner, because little
appetite, for David. Instead of eating, he plied Jacob with beer; for
through this liberality he descried a hope. Jacob fell into a dead
sleep, at last, without having his arms round David, who paid the
reckoning, took his bundle, and walked off. In another half-hour he was
on the coach on his way to Liverpool, smiling the smile of the triumphant
wicked. He was rid of Jacob--he was bound for the Indies, where a
gullible princess awaited him. He would never steal any more, but there
would be no need; he would show himself so deserving, that people would
make him presents freely. He must give up the notion of his father's
legacy; but it was not likely he would ever want that trifle; and even if
he did--why, it was a compensation to think that in being for ever
divided from his family he was divided from Jacob, more terrible than
Gorgon or Demogorgon to David's timid green eyes. Thank heaven, he
should never see Jacob any more!




CHAPTER II


It was nearly six years after the departure of Mr. David Faux for the
West Indies, that the vacant shop in the market-place at Grimworth was