'Me?  Deaf as a  post, me,' burbled Ernie, who  in some ways was a very quick  learner.  'Can't  hardly see  more'n  a  few  feet, neither.  Cot  no recollection for them  faces that I do  see, come to  that. Bad memory? Hah! Talk about bad memory. Cor, sometimes I can be like as it  were on the cart, talking  to people, hah, just like I'm talking gone,  hah, remember anything about them  or  how  many they were or  what they were carrying or  anything about any to you now, and then when they're try as I might, do you think I car girl or anything?' By  this time his  voice  was  a highpitched wheeze. 'Hah! Sometimes I forget me own name!'

     'It's Ernie, isn't it?' said  Teatime,  giving him a happy  smile. 'Ah, and here we are. Oh dear. There seems to be some excitement.'

     There  was the sound  of fighting somewhere ahead, and then a couple of masked trolls ran past  with three Watchmen after them. They all ignored the cart.

     'I  heard  the De  Bris  gang were  going to  have  a go  at  Packley's strongroom tonight,' said a voice behind Ernie.

     '  Looks like Mr Brown won't be joining  us, then,' said another voice. There was a snigger.

     'Oh,  I don't know about that, Mr Lilywhite, I don't know about that at all,'  said  a  third  voice,  and this one was from  the  direction of  the fountain. 'Could you take  my  bag while  I climb up, please? Do be careful, it's a little heavy.'

     It was a neat little voice. The owner of  a voice  like that  kept  his money  in a  shovel  purse and always counted his  change  carefully.  Ernie thought all this, and then tried very hard to forget that he had.

     'On you  go,  Ernie,'  said Teatime. 'Round  behind  the  University, I think.'

     As the cart rolled on, the neat little  voice said,  'You grab  all the money and then you get out very smartly. Am I right?'

     There was a murmur of agreement.

     'Learned that on my mother's knee, yeah.'

     'You learned a lot of stuff across your ma's knee, Mr Lilywhite.'

     'Don't  you  say  nuffin'  about  our  mam!'  The  voice  was  like  an earthquake.

     'This is Mr Brown, Banjo. You smarten up.'

     'He dint ort to tork about our mam!'

     'All right!  All right! Hello, Banjo ... I think  I may  have  a  sweet somewhere ... Yes, there you' are. Yes, your ma knew the way all right.  You go in quietly,  you take your time, you get what you  came for and you leave smartly and  in good order. You don't hang  around  at the scene to count it out and tell one another what brave lads you are, am I right?'

     'You seem  to  have done all right, Mr Brown.' The cart rattled towards the other side of the square.

     'Just a  little for expenses, Mr  Catseye. A little Hogswatch  present, you might say.  Never take the lot and  run. Take  a little and walk.  Dress neat.  That's my motto. Dress neat  and  walk away slowly. Never  run. Never run.  The  Watch'Il always  chase a running man.  They're  like terriers for giving chase. No,  you walk out  slow, you walk round the  corner,  you wait till there's a lot of excitement, then you turn  around and walk back.  They can't cope with that, see. Half the time they'll stand aside to let you walk past. "Good evening, officers," you say, and then you go home for your tea.'

     'Wheee!  Gets you out  of trouble, I  can  see  that. If you've got the nerve.'

     'Oh, no, Mr Peachy. Doesn't get you out of. Keeps You out of.'

     It  was  like  a very good schoolroom, Ernie  thought  (and immediately tried to forget). Or a back-street gym when a champion prizefighter had just strolled in.

     'What's up with your mouth, Banjo?'

     'He lost a tooth, Mr Brown,' said another voice, and sniggered.

     'Lost a toot, Mr Brown,' said the thunder that was Banjo.

     'Keep your eyes on the road, Ernie,' said Teatime beside him. 'We don't want an accident, do we. . .'

     The road here  was deserted, despite the bustle of the city behind them and  the bulk of the University  nearby. There  were  a few streets, but the buildings were abandoned. And something was happening to the sound. The rest of AnkhMorpork seemed very far away, the sounds arriving as if through quite a thick wall. They were  entering that  scorned little corner of AnkhMorpork that had long been  the site  of  the University's rubbish  pits and was now known as the Unreal Estate.

     'Bloody wizards,' muttered Ernie, automatically.

     'I beg your pardon?' said Teatime.

     'My great-grandpa said we used t'own  prop'ty round here. Low levels of magic, my  arse! Hah, it's all right for them  wizards,  they got all kindsa spells to protect 'em. Bit of magic here, bit of magic there... Stands to reason it's got to go somewhere, right?'

     'There used to be warning signs up,' said the neat voice from behind.

     'Yeah,  well, warning signs in  Ankh-Morpork  might as well  have "Good firewood" written on them,' said someone else.

     'I  mean, stands to reason, they chuck  out an old spell for  exploding this, and another one for twiddlin' that, and another one for making carrots grow,  they  finish up  interfering with one another, who knows what they'll end  up  doing?' said Ernie. 'Great-grandpa said sometimes they'd wake up in the  morning and the cellar'd be higher than the attic. And that weren't the worst,' he added darkly.

     'Yeah, I heard where it got so bad you could walk  down  the street and meet  yourself coming  the  other way,' someone supplied. 'It  got  so's you didn't know it was bum or breakfast time, I heard.'

     'The  dog  used  to  bring  home  all  kinds  of  stuff,'  said  Ernie. 'Great-grandpa  said half the time they used to dive behind the sofa  if  it came  in  with anything in its mouth. Corroded fire spells startin' to fizz, broken  wands with green smoke  coming out of 'em and I don't know what else ... and if you saw the cat playing with anything, it  was best not to try to find out what it was, I can tell you.'

     He  twitched the reins, his current predicament almost forgotten in the tide of hereditary resentment.

     'I mean, they say all the old spell books and stuff was buried deep and they recycle the used spells now, but that don't seem much comfort when your potatoes started walkin' about,' he  grumbled. 'My great-grandpa went to see the head wizard  about it,  and he said' - he put on a strangled nasal voice which was his idea of how you talked when you'd got an  education -  ' " Oh, there might be some  temp'ry  inconvenience now, my good man, but  just  you come back in fifty thousand years." Bloody wizards.'

     The horse turned a corner.

     This was  a  dead-end street. Half-collapsed  houses, windows  smashed, doors stolen, leaned against one another on either side.

     'I  heard  they  said  they were  going to  clean up this  place,' said someone.

     'Oh, yeah,' said Ernie,  and spat. When it hit the  ground it ran away. 'And  you know what?  You get loonies coming in  all the  time  now,  poking around, pulling things about...'

     'Just at the wall up  ahead,' said  Teatime  conversationally. 'I think you generally go through just where there's a pile of rubble by the old dead tree, although you wouldn't see it unless you looked closely. But I've never seen how you do it ... '

     '' ere, I can't take you lot through,' said Ernie. 'Lifts is one thing, but not taking people through- '

     Teatime sighed. 'And we were  getting on so well. Listen, Ernie ... Ern ... you  will  take us through  or, and  I say  this with  very considerable regret, I will have to kill you. You  seem a nice man. Conscientious. A very serious overcoat and sensible boots.'

     'But if'n I take you through-'

     'What's the  worst that  can happen?' said Teatime.  'You'll lose  your job. Whereas if you don't, you'll die. So if you look at it like that, we're actually doing you a favour. Oh, do say yes.'