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Updated: June 18, 2025
"I wish I could give an equally satisfactory account of the tracing of the crime. We can make nothing of Wall-Eyes. He declares that he didn't even know Jervy was dead, till we told him; and he swears he found the money dropped in the street. It is needless to say that this last assertion is a lie.
Having thus far acknowledged the design he had in view, could he still venture on answering his companion without reserve? Phoebe was vain, Phoebe was vindictive; and, more promising still, Phoebe was a fool. But she was not yet capable of consenting to an act of the vilest infamy, in cold blood. Jervy looked at her and saw that the foreseen necessity for lying had come at last.
"Who was Moll Davis?" "A cadger." "And you really know nothing now of Moll Davis or the child?" "Should I want you to help me if I did?" Mrs. Sowler asked contemptuously. "They may be both dead and buried, for all I know to the contrary." Jervy put her into the cab, without further delay. "Now for the other one!" he said to himself, as he hurried back to the private room.
Her attention was completely absorbed by Mrs. Sowler's replies. Speculating on the possible result, Jervy abandoned the question of the debt, and devoted his next inquiries to the subject of the child. "I promise you every farthing of your money, Mother Sowler," he said, "with interest added to it. How old was the child when Farnaby gave it to you?" "Old? Not a week old, I should say!"
Phoebe answered petulantly, "I'm turned out of the house; I don't care what you tell her!" Jervy again addressed the old woman, still keeping his information in reserve. "Why do you want to know where he lives?" "He owes me money," said Mrs. Sowler. Jervy looked hard at her, and emitted a long low whistle, expressive of blank amazement.
Looks at his servants as if they were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one year's end to another." "Suppose I guess again? He's not particularly free-handed with his money is he?" "He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never gave away a halfpenny in his life." Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation.
In her present vindictive mood, he would be emphatically a dangerous companion and counsellor. Amelius felt this so strongly, that he determined to follow them, on the chance of finding out where Jervy lived. Unhappily, he had only arrived at this resolution after a lapse of a minute or two. He ran into the street but it was too late; not a trace of them was to be discovered.
Sowler's head was only assailable by hot grog, when hot grog was administered in large quantities. She said it was a debt of long standing, and she said no more. "Has it been standing seven years?" Mrs. Sowler emptied her glass, and looked hard at Jervy across the table. "My memory isn't good for much, at my time of life." She gave him that answer, and she gave him no more.
"And the child was put into my hands, sixteen years ago," said Mrs. Sowler. "Take sixteen from twenty-four, and eight remains. I'm more surprised than ever, miss, at your knowing it to be a girl. It couldn't have been your child could it?" Phoebe started to her feet, in a state of fury. "Do you hear that?" she cried, appealing to Jervy.
"How could I ask him, when I never knew what his name was till you told me to-night?" "What amount of money does he owe you?" Whether Mrs. Sowler had her mind prophetically fixed on a fourth glass of grog, or whether she thought it time to begin asking questions on her own account, is not easy to say. Whatever her motive might be, she slyly shook her head, and winked at Jervy.
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