Kelson looked at Curtis and his heart thumped.  Curtis’s right hand was getting ready to spring at the ham, whilst his left was creeping stealthily along the counter in the direction of a loaf of bread.  Kelson slowly realized that an acute crisis in both their lives was at hand, and that it depended on him how it would end.  He had never thought it possible to feel as mean as he felt now.  Besides, his natural sympathy with women tempted him to stand by the girl and prevent Curtis from robbing her.  He was still deliberating, when he saw two long dark objects, with lightning rapidity, swoop down on the plates and dishes.  There was a loud clatter, and the next moment the whole place seemed alive with movement.

A voice which in his confusion he did not recognize at once shouted—­and seemingly from far away—­“Quick, you fool, quick!  Fling down the chairs and grab those sausages!” Whilst from close beside him—­almost, he fancied, in his ears—­came a wild shriek of “Mother!  Mother!  We are being robbed!”

Had the girl appealed to him to help her it is more than likely that Kelson, who was even yet undecided what course to adopt, would have offered her his aid; but the instant she acted on the defensive his mind was made up; a mad spirit of self-preservation swept over him—­and dashing the chairs on the ground at her feet, he seized the sausages, and flew after Curtis.

Ten minutes later, Curtis and Kelson, their arms full of spoil, clambered up the staircase of their lodgings, and reeled into their room.

“Look!” Curtis gasped, sinking into the chair.  “Look and see if we are followed!”

“There’s no one about!” Kelson whispered, peering cautiously out of the window.  “Not a soul!  I don’t believe after that first rush across Rutter Street, any one noticed us.  To leave off running was far the best thing to do.  You are a perfect genius, Ed. I wonder if this sort of thing—­er—­thieving—­is dormant in most of us?  I say, old fellow, I wish I hadn’t looked at that book of Hamar’s.  Do you know, directly I took it up, an extraordinary sensation of cunning came over me; and I declare, when I put it down, I felt it would take very little to make me a criminal!”

“We’re both criminals now—­in the eyes of the law—­anyway!” Curtis said.  “And now we’ve got so far there’s no alternative but to go on!  It’s easier for a hundred camels to pass through the eye of a needle than for a clerk to get work, that’s a fact.  The markets are hopelessly overstocked—­no one wants us!  No one helps us!  No one even thinks about us.  The labouring man gets pity and cents galore—­we get nothing!—­nothing but rotten pay whilst we work, and when we’re out of work, dosshouses or kerbstones.  D—­n clerks, I say.  D—­n everything!  There’s no justice in creation—­there’s no justice in anything—­and the only people who prate of it are those who have never known what it is to want.  Say, when shall we take the next lot?”