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Various

"Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume XXII"

"
With a start of horror, and a face as pale as death, I clapped my hand
on the outside of my buttoned jacket, to feel for my pocket-book, which
I carefully deposited in an inside pocket. It was gone.
"Be calm--be composed, my lad," said the gentleman, marking my excessive
agitation, and seeing that I was about to make some outcry. "The fellows
will bolt on the least alarm; and as there are three or four of them,
may force their way out, if driven to extremity. Leave the matter to me,
and I'll manage it for you."
During all this time, the stranger, who had spoken in a very low tone,
carefully abstained from looking towards those of whom he was speaking,
and wore such an air of composure and indifference, that no one could
possibly have suspected for a moment what was the subject of his
communication to me.
Having made this communication, and desired me to remain where I was,
and to exhibit no symptom of anything particular having happened, my
friend, as I could not but reckon him, went out for an instant.
When he returned, he kept hovering about the entrance into the show, as
if to prevent the egress of any one, but without making any sign to me,
or even looking at me. My agitation during this interval was excessive;
and although I strictly obeyed my friend's injunctions, notwithstanding
that I knew not to what they were to lead, I could not suppress the
dreadful feelings by which I was distracted.


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