more reputable character. The realms of honesty and dishonesty, like those of great wits and madness, have thin partitions. As a thief, he was the best man in the world to catch a thief. So he became chief spy or informer to the police, and thus obtained a footing on the twilight frontiers or neutral ground of good and bad repute. Some indeed said that this was worse than being a thief; but others said—“No: an informer was a prop to the laws, and an indispensable limb of the police-office.” This last word suggested to him another change; he obtained the situation of a regular police-officer, and was now decidedly within the pale of reputable life. Some hankering, however, he still retained for his first calling: he was glad to detect a roguery; he was glad to assist in one: of the two, he perhaps gave the preference to the latter; but merely, as he protested, because he found that it required greater talents. Tempting opportunities offered; suspicions arose; and, at length, Slippery Dick was requested to make himself scarce at the police-office, which he did; and, after many ups-and-downs, many flittings, backwards and forwards on both sides of the neutral frontier above-mentioned, he settled at last on the reputable side, in character of agent and correspondent to the German Mercury, professing himself a true penitent, and a decided convert to the primitive faith, that honesty is the best policy. Every Saturday, as he was taking his tenth glass of punch, he wept much for his past life. But still, as all flesh is frail, he manifested on Monday morning a constant propensity to engage in any tricks, plots, or knaveries which kept on the right side of the law. To feel that he was abetting something not quite justifiable, was necessary as a seasoning or pleasant condiment to Dick’s exertions; but being old, as he observed, and having no son to succeed him, he begged to decline all business of a dangerous character. He would invariably ask a high price for his services; but, if a man positively would not give it, then, Mr. Dick positively would insist in giving his services for nothing, rather than miss any luxurious piece of mischief. In short, he settled down into the regular Scapin of the place; and in that ancient part he become a “fourbe fourbissime.”
To him then, to Slippery Dick, with an entrance-fee of five guineas, (which, by the way, was wholly unnecessary) Mr. Ferdinand addressed himself. Dick liked the service immensely; for, at first sight, it seemed, sufficiently wrong to be stimulating. Yet, again he doubted, on further consideration, whether it were not an act of virtue to deceive so obstinate an old gentleman as Mr. Mule; and Dick began to have scruples of conscience. These, however, Mr. Ferdinand found means to overrule. But then again Dick murmured at the easiness of the service; “simply to cheat two old women—it was really below a man of
