Page 291 - A Jacobite Exile

"He called himself Nicholson, when we last met; but like enough that is not
his real name, and if it is, he may be known by another here. He is a lanky

knave, of middle height; but more than that, except that he has a shifty look
about his eyes, I cannot tell you."

"And his condition, you say, is changeable?"

"Very much so, I should say. I should fancy that, when in funds, he would
frequent places where he could prey on careless young fellows from the

country, like myself. When his pockets are empty, I should say he would
herd with the lowest rascals."

"Well, sir, as you say he is in funds at present, we will this evening visit a
tavern or two, frequented by young blades, some of whom have more

money than wit; and by men who live by their wits and nothing else. But
you must not be disappointed, if the search prove a long one before you run
your hare down, for the indications you have given me are very doubtful.

He may be living in Alsatia, hard by the Temple, which, though not so bad
as it used to be, is still an abode of dangerous rogues. But more likely you

may meet him at the taverns in Westminster, or near Whitehall; for, if he
has means to dress himself bravely, it is there he will most readily pick up
gulls.

"I will, with your permission, take you to the better sort to begin with, and

then, when you have got more accustomed to the ways of these places, you
can go to those a step lower, where, I should think, he is more likely to be
found; for such fellows spend their money freely, when they get it, and

unless they manage to fleece some young lamb from the country, they soon
find themselves unable to keep pace with the society of places where play

runs high, and men call for their bottles freely. Besides, in such places,
when they become unable to spend money freely, they soon get the cold
shoulder from the host, who cares not to see the money that should be spent

on feasting and wine diverted into the pockets of others.

"I shall leave you at the door of these places. I am too well known to enter.
I put my hand on the shoulder of too many men, during the year, for me to