104 THE SPIDER AND SPIDER-KILLER.

THE SPIDER AND THE SPIDER-KILLER.

In some of the isles of the Pacific, I have been told, it is
not uncommon for a spider, while in the act of seizing and
sucking the heart's blood of a tender and juicy fly, to be him-
self pounced upon by a larger insect peculiar to the clime,
having as keen a zest for raw spider as the spider has for fresh
fly. Nature repeats itself in all its grades and conditions.
Human spiders abound among my " bairns," but then
I fortunately the spider-devourer occasionally crops up in the
same class.

In passing through one of the fashionable crescents down in
the New Town, one day about noon, on some business which
admitted of little delay, I was a little surprised to see one of
the most cunning rogues within my ken ascend the steps of a
big main-door house, and ring the bell as coolly as if the
residence had been his own. Peter Hart was an exceedingly
cautious rascal who could never be caught napping, or booked
for anything like the sentence he deserved, from the fact that
he never personally conducted any operation which he could
conveniently transfer to' a "cat's paw."

That was the man whom I saw ascend the steps of that fine
residence. What was the villain after there? My business
was urgent, but the effrontery of the knave pointed so clearly
to some carefully-planned crime that I instinctively slackened
my pace to watch if he should enter the house. Unfortunately
I had been almost upon him before aware of his identity, and
these quiet crescents are almost deserted by day, so there was
no opportunity for concealment before his quick eyes, ever on
the alert, had turned round and taken in the position at a
glance. Peter's impression probably was, that I had been
following him all the way from his house in James' Square.
He might have known me better. Had the meeting been
anything but a purely accidental one, I should never have
allowed him to get a glimpse of me, more especially at that
critical moment.