of disaster, are perfect in their
carelessness and good-fellowship. In this he demands news of his
children, as becomes a father and a citizen, and furnishes a schedule of
their education; in that he is curious concerning the issue of a main,
and would know whether his black cock came off triumphant. Nor, even in
flight, did he forget his proper craft, but would have his tools sent to
Charleston, that in America he might resume the trade that had made him
Deacon.

But his was the art of conduct, not of guile, and he deserved capture
for his rare indifference. Why, then, with no natural impulsion, did he
risk the gallows? Why, being no born thief, and innocent of the thief's
cunning, did he associate with so clever a scoundrel as George Smith,
with cowards craven as Brown and Ainslie? The greed of gold, doubtless,
half persuaded him, but gold was otherwise attainable, and the motive
was assuredly far more subtle. Brodie, in fact, was of a romantic
turn. He was, so to say, a glorified schoolboy, surfeited with penny
dreadfuls. He loved above all things to patter the flash, to dream
himself another Macheath, to trick himself out with all the trappings
of a crime he was unfit to commit. It was never the job itself that
attracted him: he would always rather throw the dice than force a
neighbour's window. But he must needs have a distraction from the
respectability of his life. Everybody was at his feet; he was Deacon
of his Guild, at an age whereat his fellows were striving to earn a
reputable living; his masterpieces were fashioned, and the wrights'
trade was already a burden. To go upon the cross seemed a dream of
freedom, until he snapped his fingers at the world, filled his mouth
with slang, prepared his alibi, and furnished him a whole wardrobe of
disguises.

With a conscious irony, maybe, he buried his pistols beneath the
domestic hearth, jammed his dark lantern into the press, where he kept
his game-cocks, and determined to make an inextricable jumble of his
career. Drink is sometimes a sufficient reaction against the orderliness
of a successful life.

But drink and cards failed with the Deacon, and at the Vintner's of his
frequentation he encountered accomplices proper for his schemes. Never
was so outrageous a protest offered against domesticity. Yet Brodie's
resolution was romantic after its fashion, and was far more respectable
than the blackguardism of the French Revolution, which distracted
housewifely disc