the time I write and so is my brother which takes off my attention rather, and I hope will excuse mistakes.
"The monster having satiated his thirst for blood ran away, taking with him a boy of desperate caracter that he had excited to rebellyon, and a garnet ring belonging to my ma, and not having been apprehended by the constables is supposed to have been took up by some stage-coach. My pa begs that if he comes to you the ring may be returned, and that you will let the thief and assassin go, as if we prosecuted him he would only be transported, and if he is let go he is sure to be hung before long, which will save us trouble, and be much more satisfactory.
Hoping to hear from you when convenient
"P.S. I pity his ignorance and despise him."
A profound silence succeeded to the reading of this choice epistle, during which Newman Noggs, as he folded it up, gazed with a kind of
grotesque pity at the boy of desperate character therein referred to; who, having no more distinct perception of the matter in hand, than
that he had been the unfortunate cause of heaping trouble and falsehood upon Nicholas, sat mute and dispirited, with a most woe-begone and
heart-stricken look.
"Mr. Noggs," said Nicholas, after a few moments' reflection, "I must go out at once."
"Go out!" cried Newman.
"Yes," said Nicholas, "to Golden Square. Nobody who knows me would believe this story of the ring; but it may suit the purpose, or gratify the hatred, of Mr. Ralph Nickleby to feign to attach credence to it. It is due—not to him, but to myself—that I should state the truth; and moreover, I have a word or two to exchange with him, which will not keep cool."
"They must," said Newman.
"They must not, indeed," rejoined Nicholas firmly, as he prepared to leave the house.
"Hear me speak," said Newman, planting himself before his impetuous young friend. "He is not there. He is away from town. He will not be back for three days; and I know that letter will not be answered before he returns."
"Are you sure of this ?" asked Nicholas, chafing violently, and pacing the narrow room with rapid strides.
"Quite," rejoined Newman. "He had hardly read it when he was called away. Its contents are known to nobody but himself and us."
"Are you certain?" demanded Nicholas, precipitately; "not even to my mother or sister? If I thought that they—I will go there—I must see them. Which is the way? Where is it?"
"Now be advised by me," said Newman, speaking for the moment, in his earnestness, like any other man—"make no effort to see even them, till he comes home. I know the man. Do not seem to have been tampering with anybody. When he returns, go straight to him,
