The gaoler did not know Smith in his nice blue suit, and with a clean face. "It isn't Smith, is it?" he said. "Not dirty Smith, the pickpocket?"

"It's Smith, the killer, now," Mr Billing replied.

"Oh, that's bad. Poor Miss Fanny and Miss Bridget! They'll cry when they have to alter that suit."

Mr Billing gave some money to the gaoler. "He can stay with the debtors," Mr Billing said. "And you needn't put chains round his legs."

Newgate Gaol was full of visitors. They were saying goodbye to a famous highwayman, Dick Mulrone. Mr Mulrone was going to hang on January the twenty-third. And so the gaoler allowed him to have visitors every day. The important debtors were too busy to notice Smith. He sat with an old man in the empty chimney-corner.

"You can sleep here," the old man said. "It's a good place. A lot of air comes down this chimney, and they never light a fire here. You can see the stars at night."

Miss Bridget and Miss Fanny visited Smith the next morning. He was surprised but glad to see them.

"How did you know that I was here?" he asked.

"The gaoler told us," Miss Bridget said. "People are happy to bring shame to a house!"

"I didn't kill him," Smith said. "You know that! They blamed me, but I didn't do it!"

"You're in gaol! That's enough shame, isn't it?"

Miss Fanny had a happy thought. "You're among great people, Smut. Dick Mulrone is here, and his rich friends are visiting him. You'll be lucky if you meet them."

"Lucky!" Miss Bridget cried. "He won't be lucky if the hangman sends us that suit. We'll get it without a boy inside it!"

"I'm sorry, Smut," Miss Fanny said. "But Lord Tom wanted to help you, didn't he? And he sent away those two men."

"Did you see them?" Smith asked.

"Oh, yes. They were outside the Red Lion for a week. But Lord Tom showed them his pistol, and we haven't seen them since."

At that moment Lord Tom came into the debtors' room. "I'm sorry to see you here, Smut," he said. "I've just said goodbye to my old friend, Dick Mulrone. He was the best man for the Stand-and-deliver business!"

"Shame!" Miss Bridget said, and turned away her head.

"But I can help you, Smut," Lord Tom continued. "Do you want me to try?"

"How, Lord Tom?"

"That document! Do you still have it?"

"It's not here—not with me."

"Can you get it?"

"I'll try, Lord Tom!"

"Good boy, Smut! I'll come here again soon."

The young ladies and the highwayman stood up. Miss Bridget said, "We're going now... You're a bad boy, but—but we won't forget you. Fanny and I will come back."

Smith did not raise his head for two minutes. He looked up then and saw—Mr Billing.

"I promised to come back," the lawyer said. "And I haven't forgotten.

"No, you haven't," Smith said. "And I hope that you haven't forgotten your false words, Mr Billing. Mr Killer Billing."

"Oh, Smith, I'm not a bad man. We're living in a cruel world, and we ought to be friends. Did you know that I saved your life?"

"You brought me here, Mr Billing, and the hangman lives here."

"They knew that you were in Vine Street."

"Who did?"

"Those two men in brown suits. They were going to kill you there."

"Aren't they your friends, Mr Billing?"

The lawyer looked at Smith closely. "Listen, friend. I like you. You and I are the same kind of people, and I'll tell you the facts. I used to know those two men."

"Did they have to kill the old man?" Smith asked. "Was it necessary?"

"Ask Mr Black. Those men don't usually feel any shame."

"Mr Black?" Smith's mouth was dry. "Was—was he the lame man?"

"Very lame, Smith. He has a wooden leg and a cruel soft voice. I never want to meet Mr Wooden-Leg Black on a dark night! I'm afraid of him, too. He wants that document. It will bring thousands of pounds to him. But, Smith, if you and I—if you—"

"What, Mr Billing?"

"You and me... just you and me... Where is the document?"

"In—" Smith began, and stopped. The old man in the chimney-corner began to make a great noise with his chains.

"Where, Smith? Where?"

But Smith had a few new thoughts, "I can't remember, Mr Billing."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm waiting for my trial. A boy can't remember things in gaol, Mr Billing."

"Don't you trust me, Smith?"

"No, Mr Billing. I'll never trust people again. I've learned that lesson from Miss Mansfield and her father."