Chapter LX

Kit stood as one entranced, with his eyes opened wide and fixed upon

the ground, regardless alike of the tremulous hold which Mr Brass

maintained on one side of his cravat, and of the firmer grasp of Miss

Sally upon the other; although this latter detention was in itself no

small inconvenience, as that fascinating woman, besides screwing her

knuckles inconveniently into his throat from time to time, had

fastened upon him in the first instance with so tight a grip that even

in the disorder and distraction of his thoughts he could not divest

himself of an uneasy sense of choking. Between the brother and sister

he remained in this posture, quite unresisting and passive, until Mr

Swiveller returned, with a police constable at his heels.

This functionary, being, of course, well used to such scenes; looking

upon all kinds of robbery, from petty larceny up to housebreaking or

ventures on the highway, as matters in the regular course of business;

and regarding the perpetrators in the light of so many customers

coming to be served at the wholesale and retail shop of criminal law

where he stood behind the counter; received Mr Brass's statement of

facts with about as much interest and surprise, as an undertaker

might evince if required to listen to a circumstantial account of the

last illness of a person whom he was called in to wait upon

professionally; and took Kit into custody with a decent indifference.

We had better,' said this subordinate minister of justice, 'get to the

office while there's a magistrate sitting. I shall want you to come along

with us, Mr Brass, and the - ' he looked at Miss Sally as if in some

doubt whether she might not be a griffin or other fabulous monster.

The lady, eh?' said Sampson.

Ah!' replied the constable. 'Yes - the lady. Likewise the young man

that found the property.'

'Mr Richard, Sir,' said Brass in a mournful voice. 'A sad necessity. But

the altar of our country sir - '

'You'll have a hackney-coach, I suppose?' interrupted the constable,

holding Kit (whom his other captors had released) carelessly by the

arm, a little above the elbow. 'Be so good as send for one, will you?'

But, hear me speak a word,' cried Kit, raising his eyes and looking

imploringly about him. 'Hear me speak a word. I am no more guilty

than any one of you. Upon my soul I am not. I a thief! Oh, Mr Brass,

you know me better. I am sure you know me better. This is not right

of you, indeed.'

The Old Curiosity Shop