It was no use staying in Liverpool, that was clear. The Liverpool police should have the pleasure of fetching him all the way from London when they wanted him; and possibly, with Durfy's aid, he might succeed in getting hold of another trump-card meanwhile to turn up when they least expected it.
The journey south next day was less blithe and less occupied with the _Law Times_ than the journey north had been. But as he got farther away from inhospitable Liverpool his spirits revived, and before London was reached he was once more in imagination "the clever lawyer, Shuckleford, don't you know, who gave the Liverpool police a slap in the face over that Agency Corporation business, don't you know."
On reaching home, any natural joy he might be expected to feel on being restored to the bosom of his family was damped by the discovery that his mother was that very moment in next door relieving guard with Miss Crisp at the bedside of Mrs Cruden.
"What business has she to do it when I told her not?" demanded Sam wrathfully of his sister.
"She's not bound to obey you," said Jemima; "she's your mother."
"She is. And a nice respectable mother, too, to go mixing with a lot of low, swindling jail-birds! It's sickening!"
"You've no right to talk like that, Sam," said Jemima, flushing up; "they're as honest as you are--more so, perhaps. There!"
"Go it; say on," said Samuel. "All I can tell you is, if you don't both of you turn the Cruden lot up, I'll go and live in lodgings by myself."
"Why should we turn them or anybody up for you, I should like to know?" said Jemima, with a toss of her head. "What have they done to you?"
"You're an idiot," said Sam, "or you wouldn't talk bosh. Your dear Reginald--"
"Well, what about him?" said Jemima, her trembling lip betraying the inward flutter with which she heard the name.
"How would you like to know your precious Reginald was this moment in prison?"
"What!" shrieked Jemima, with a clutch at her brother's arm.
He was glad to see there was some one he could make "sit up," and replied, with brutal directness,--
"Yes--in prison, I tell you; charged with swindling and theft ever since he set foot in Liverpool. There, if that's not reason enough for turning them up, I give you up. You can tell mother so, and say I'm down at the club, and she'd better leave supper up for me; do you hear?"