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He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. It isn’t all. My friends consider it wonderfully faithful. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. "Rot, weren't they?" "No.
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