We left the doctor in the last chapter with the wounded man, to whom the doctor, in a very gentle voice, spoke as follows:—

“I am sorry, friend, to see you in this situation, and am very ready to give you any comfort or assistance within my power.”

“I thank you kindly, doctor,” said the man. “Indeed I should not have presumed to have sent to you had I not known your character; for, though I believe I am not at all known to you, I have lived many years in that town where you yourself had a house; my name is Robinson. I used to write for the attorneys in those parts, and I have been employed on your business in my time.”

“I do not recollect you nor your name,” said the doctor; “but consider, friend, your moments are precious, and your business, as I am informed, is to offer up your prayers to that great Being before whom you are shortly to appear. But first let me exhort you earnestly to a most serious repentance of all your sins.”

“O doctor!” said the man; “pray; what is your opinion of a death-bed repentance?”

“If repentance is sincere,” cries the doctor, “I hope, through the mercies and merits of our most powerful and benign Intercessor, it will never come too late.”

“But do not you think, sir,” cries the man, “that, in order to obtain forgiveness of any great sin we have committed, by an injury done to our neighbours, it is necessary, as far as in us lies, to make all the amends we can to the party injured, and to undo, if possible, the injury we have done?”

“Most undoubtedly,” cries the doctor; “our pretence to repentance would otherwise be gross hypocrisy, and an impudent attempt to deceive and impose upon our Creator himself.”

“Indeed, I am of the same opinion,” cries the penitent; “and I think further, that this is thrown in my way, and hinted to me by that great Being; for an accident happened to me yesterday, by which, as things have fallen out since, I think I plainly discern the hand of Providence. I went yesterday, sir, you must know, to a pawnbroker’s, to pawn the last moveable, which, except the poor cloathes you see on my back, I am worth in the world. While I was there a young lady came in to pawn her picture. She had disguised herself so much, and pulled her hood so over her face, that I did not know her while she stayed, which was scarce three minutes. As soon as she was gone the pawnbroker, taking the picture in his hand, cried out, Upon my word, this is the handsomest face I ever saw in my life! I desired him to let me look on the picture, which he readily did—and I no sooner cast my eyes upon it, than the strong resemblance struck me, and I knew it to be Mrs. Booth.”

“Mrs. Booth! what Mrs. Booth?” cries the doctor.

“Captain Booth’s lady, the captain who is now below,” said the other.

“How?” cries the doctor with great impetuosity.

“Have patience,” said the man, “and you shall hear all. I expressed some surprize to the pawnbroker, and asked the lady’s name. He answered, that he knew not her name; but that she was some undone wretch, who had the day before left all her cloathes with him in pawn. My guilt immediately flew in my face, and told me I had been accessory to this lady’s undoing. The sudden shock so affected me, that, had it not been for a dram which the pawnbroker gave me, I believe I should have sunk on the spot.”
“Accessary to her undoing! how accessary?” said the doctor. “Pray tell me, for I am impatient to hear.”

“I will tell you all as fast as I can,” cries the sick man. “You know, good doctor, that Mrs. Harris of our town had two daughters, this Mrs. Booth and another. Now, sir, it seems the other daughter had, some way or other, disobliged her mother a little before the old lady died; therefore she made a will, and left all her fortune, except one thousand pound, to Mrs. Booth; to which will Mr. Murphy, myself, and another who is now dead, were the witnesses. Mrs. Harris afterwards died suddenly; upon which it was contrived by her other daughter and Mr. Murphy to make a new will, in which Mrs. Booth had a legacy of ten pound, and all the rest was given to the other. To this will, Murphy, myself, and the same third person, again set our hands.”

“Good Heaven! how wonderful is thy providence!” cries the doctor—“Murphy, say you?”

“He himself, sir,” answered Robinson; “Murphy, who is the greatest rogue, I believe, now in the world.”

“Pray, sir, proceed,” cries the doctor.

“For this service, sir,” said Robinson, “myself and the third person, one Carter, received two hundred pound each. What reward Murphy himself had I know not. Carter died soon afterwards; and from that time, at several payments, I have by threats extorted above a hundred pound more. And this, sir, is the whole truth, which I am ready to testify if it would please Heaven to prolong my life.”

“I hope it will,” cries the doctor; “but something must be done for fear of accidents. I will send to counsel immediately to know how to secure your testimony.—Whom can I get to send?—Stay, ay—he will do—but I know not where his house or his chambers are. I will go myself—but I may be wanted here.”

While the doctor was in this violent agitation the surgeon made his appearance. The doctor stood still in a meditating posture, while the surgeon examined his patient. After which the doctor begged him to declare his opinion, and whether he thought the wounded man in any immediate danger of death. “I do not know,” answered the surgeon, “what you call immediate. He may live several days—nay, he may recover. It is impossible to give any certain opinion in these cases.” He then launched forth into a set of terms which the doctor, with all his scholarship, could not understand. To say the truth, many of them were not to be found in any dictionary or lexicon.

One discovery, however, the doctor made, and that was, that the surgeon was a very ignorant, conceited fellow, and knew nothing of his profession. He resolved, therefore, to get better advice for the sick; but this he postponed at present, and, applying himself to the surgeon, said, “He should be very much obliged to him if he knew where to find such a counsellor, and would fetch him thither. I should not ask such a favour of you, sir,” says the doctor, “if it was not on business of the last importance, or if I could find any other messenger.”

“I fetch, sir!” said the surgeon very angrily. “Do you take me for a footman or a porter? I don’t know who you are; but I believe you are full as proper to go on such an errand as I am.” (For as the doctor, who was just come off his journey, was very roughly dressed, the surgeon held him in no great respect.) The surgeon then called aloud from the top of the stairs, “Let my coachman draw up,” and strutted off without any ceremony, telling his patient he would call again the next day.

At this very instant arrived Murphy with the other bail, and, finding Booth alone, he asked the bailiff at the door what was become of the doctor? “Why, the doctor,” answered he, “is above-stairs, praying with——-.” “How!” cries Murphy. “How came you not to carry him directly to Newgate, as you promised me?” “Why, because he was wounded,” cries the bailiff. “I thought it was charity to take care of him; and, besides, why should one make more noise about the matter than is necessary?” “And Doctor Harrison with him?” said Murphy. “Yes, he is,” said the bailiff; “he desired to speak with the doctor very much, and they have been praying together almost this hour.” “All is up and undone!” cries Murphy. “Let me come by, I have thought of something which I must do immediately.”

Now, as by means of the surgeon’s leaving the door open the doctor heard Murphy’s voice naming Robinson peevishly, he drew softly to the top of the stairs, where he heard the foregoing dialogue; and as soon as Murphy had uttered his last words, and was moving downwards, the doctor immediately sallied from his post, running as fast as he could, and crying, Stop the villain! stop the thief!

The attorney wanted no better hint to accelerate his pace; and, having the start of the doctor, got downstairs, and out into the street; but the doctor was so close at his heels, and being in foot the nimbler of the two, he soon overtook him, and laid hold of him, as he would have done on either Broughton or Slack in the same cause.
This action in the street, accompanied with the frequent cry of Stop thief by the doctor during the chase, presently drew together a large mob, who began, as is usual, to enter immediately upon business, and to make strict enquiry into the matter, in order to proceed to do justice in their summary way.

Murphy, who knew well the temper of the mob, cried out, “If you are a bailiff, shew me your writ. Gentlemen, he pretends to arrest me here without a writ.”

Upon this, one of the sturdiest and forwardest of the mob, and who by a superior strength of body and of lungs presided in this assembly, declared he would suffer no such thing. “D—n me,” says he, “away to the pump with the catchpole directly—shew me your writ, or let the gentleman go—you shall not arrest a man contrary to law.”

He then laid his hands on the doctor, who, still fast griping the attorney, cried out, “He is a villain—I am no bailiff, but a clergyman, and this lawyer is guilty of forgery, and hath ruined a poor family.”

“How!” cries the spokesman—“a lawyer!—that alters the case.”

“Yes, faith,” cries another of the mob, “it is lawyer Murphy. I know him very well.”

“And hath he ruined a poor family?—like enough, faith, if he’s a lawyer. Away with him to the justice immediately.”

The bailiff now came up, desiring to know what was the matter; to whom Doctor Harrison answered that he had arrested that villain for a forgery. “How can you arrest him?” cries the bailiff; “you are no officer, nor have any warrant. Mr. Murphy is a gentleman, and he shall be used as such.”

“Nay, to be sure,” cries the spokesman, “there ought to be a warrant; that’s the truth on’t.”

“There needs no warrant,” cries the doctor. “I accuse him of felony; and I know so much of the law of England, that any man may arrest a felon without any warrant whatever. This villain hath undone a poor family; and I will die on the spot before I part with him.”

“If the law be so,” cries the orator, “that is another matter. And to be sure, to ruin a poor man is the greatest of sins. And being a lawyer too makes it so much the worse. He shall go before the justice, d—n me if he shan’t go before the justice! I says the word, he shall.”

“I say he is a gentleman, and shall be used according to law,” cries the bailiff; “and, though you are a clergyman,” said he to Harrison, “you don’t shew yourself as one by your actions.”

“That’s a bailiff,” cries one of the mob: “one lawyer will always stand by another; but I think the clergyman is a very good man, and acts becoming a clergyman, to stand by the poor.”
At which words the mob all gave a great shout, and several cried out, “Bring him along, away with him to the justice!”

And now a constable appeared, and with an authoritative voice declared what he was, produced his staff, and demanded the peace.

The doctor then delivered his prisoner over to the officer, and charged him with felony; the constable received him, the attorney submitted, the bailiff was hushed, and the waves of the mob immediately subsided.

The doctor now balanced with himself how he should proceed: at last he determined to leave Booth a little longer in captivity, and not to quit sight of Murphy before he had lodged him safe with a magistrate. They then all moved forwards to the justice; the constable and his prisoner marching first, the doctor and the bailiff following next, and about five thousand mob (for no less number were assembled in a very few minutes) following in the procession.

They found the magistrate just sitting down to his dinner; however, when he was acquainted with the doctor’s profession, he immediately admitted him, and heard his business; which he no sooner perfectly understood, with all its circumstances, than he resolved, though it was then very late, and he had been fatigued all the morning with public business, to postpone all refreshment till he had discharged his duty. He accordingly adjourned the prisoner and his cause to the bailiff’s house, whither he himself, with the doctor, immediately repaired, and whither the attorney was followed by a much larger number of attendants than he had been honoured with before.