Chapter VI: Part 6

The coming round of extremes, so as to meet and disappear in each other's ends, is a thing which all must have noticed, and why not I among the rest? I rather think that in my small way I couldn't have done what I have done, if I hadn't been a _thinker_, and so I have noticed the danger of overdoing things. Not only do strong passions, though good, land in the slough of evil, but overstretched prudence, cold and calculating, leads to a pretty considerable combustion. Yes, our old mother says, "Walk in the middle"--on the sides there are pitfalls; and yet we are never happy if we are not gaping over precipices, and talking of the picturesque and the sublime. No wonder a few topple over, and thus add to the picturesque.

When Mr C----, watchmaker in Arbroath, afraid as he was to leave his stock of watches in his shop, bethought himself of the prudent step of removing them at night, by a medium exposed to danger, he was just walking to the _side_. One night in January 1850, his two apprentices, in pursuance of their master's care, collected all the watches--about fifty in number--with many other valuable things in silver and gold, and deposited them in a box, with the view of their being carried to Mr C----'s dwelling-house, at some distance from the shop. The shop was then locked up, and one of the lads, swinging the box on his back by means of a leather strap, proceeded, with his companion alongside of him as a guard, to the usual safe place of deposit. The night was pitch dark. Their way lay by a path where the houses were thinly scattered, and the property was thus placed in a far more dangerous position than if it had been left in a good safe under lock and key in the shop, also itself under lock and key, and all under the survey of neighbours--if not of the police. When some way on their road, up started two men, one of whom held the companion, while the other, applying a knife to the strap, undid the box and made off with it in an instant. The other, letting go his grip of the lad, was also off like a flash of lightning, and the extreme care of the valuable box was thus superseded by the effort of a few minutes. The boys were too much stunned to be able to pursue, even if they had had the courage, or even to bawl, though they had the common instinct. Like most other premeditated efforts, the thing was well done; and long before any hue and cry could be got up, the robbers were far away.

Next day the usual information came fulminating over to Edinburgh--usual, with the to-be-expected abatement, that no description could, in the circumstances, be possible. The boys, under the influence of the fear which paralysed them, could and did give nothing but a "travestie" of the features of the men. When I read the confused account,

"Why," said I to the Lieutenant, "these noses, eyes, and chins, are so like what we see every day, that I might as well take up the Lord Provost as any one else." And as I had been reading a funny satire of the man called Lavater, some nights before, I could not help being humorous in my own blunt way. "Do you know that a great man, Lichtenberg by name, a queer satirical body with a hunch, raised all Germany into a laugh, by publishing the figure of a pig with a nicely curled tail, and marked on one turn of the said tail 'firmness,' on another 'benevolence,' on another 'murder,' all of which went to shew the nature of the animal, just as Lavater labelled the features of a man's face. So here we are required to find these two clever fellows, by signs given by two boys in the dark. I may find the watches, and thereby the men, and so far the intimation is proper and hopeful, but to expect us to find the men by their _noses_, is just rather too much."

"You can only do your best, James," said Mr Moxey, looking up at what he thought wonderfully learned in me.

"Yes, sir," replied I, "but I know no _best_ but detection; without that the best is the worst."

So I could only try the usual places of deposit and pledge, when there might be time for the thieves getting here and disposing of their prey. Watches are "casting-up" things. They are seldom melted, for their value is so much more than that of the materials, and then they are always in request, so I had some chance of meeting them somewhere--at least one or more out of such a stunning number as fifty. Accordingly, I did my best in the dead-object way, but without any success, and I could trust only to time and continual dodging to arrive at any discovery.

Some time passed, I don't remember how long. As for trying _faces_, it was out of the question, when I had neither image in my mind, or description to go by; and I need not say that I did not continue that, because I really never began it. But, as it will appear, my lucky genius had not flown away up above the stars to report how she had favoured me and had got enamoured of some other winged creatures, so as to delay her return. I was one night on my rounds in the Grassmarket, attended as usual by my companion. The night was not so dark as that one could not see a considerable way before. I was rather complaining that there was nothing to see. We were approaching Smith's Close, when my ear was startled, and my eye directed towards a man who had instantaneously left a companion, and rushed with clattering steps up the close.

"Seize that one," said I.

And after the other up the close I sprang at the top of my speed. I saw his dark figure before me, which, as the moon, getting from behind a cloud, threw a reflection, (made angular by the sky-line of the high houses,) came out in an instant, firm, clear, and distinct. There was no chance for him, and he knew it. She was not so kind to one of her "minions" on this occasion as she used to be in the old border times. Just as I was coming upon him, he whirled a guard from his neck and threw away a watch.

"What's the matter with the timepiece, man?" said I, as I laid hold of him, and dragging him to the article, picked it up. "Isn't it a good 'un that you threw it away?"

The fellow was sulky, and would not answer me; but a watch was so pleasant an object to me at that particular time that I overlooked the affront. Dragging him to the foot of the close, where his companion was in the custody of my assistant, we took our men to the Office, where I very soon discovered that the watch was one of Mr C----'s fifty. My anticipations, in which I had been so wise, were thus strangely enough reversed. In place of getting the men through the _watch_, I had got the watch through the _men_. And my next object was to improve upon the good fortune that had been so kind to me, in spite of my want of confidence in my benefactress. But here commenced a new difficulty. The men foolishly enough gave each the other's name, Alexander Clark and James Mitchell--quite different from those they carried for the nonce; but as for aught else, they were what we call lockmouths. No skeleton-key would reach their works. I was thus driven aback, nor did I make much progress for some time, except in hearing that one Hart had got another of the watches from another man, who had got it from Mitchell. This I, of course, treasured up in the meantime; but I was so anxious to worm out of my men where they resided--the true clue to all other discoveries--that I postponed all other inquiries, and besides, from what I knew of Hart, a lockmouth too, I had no hopes of him. All my efforts with my men were, however, vain. They would admit nothing as to their place of putting up; sullen, if not enraged, at the trick practised on them in getting each to give the other's real name. Why such men could have been so completely off their guard is not easy to be accounted for, except on the supposition that they were trying to fight shy of one another, or upon the principle I have often acted on, that even a cautious thief will sometimes allow the admission of a fact not directly implicating himself to be jerked out of him by a sudden question. After the men had been sent in custody to Dundee, I sought out Hart, and was just as unsuccessful with him. He would not admit to the watch, neither would he confess that he knew the residence of either the one or the other.

And here this strange case--destined to have so many crooks in its lot--took another turn, which, involving a little disregard of courtesy towards me, roused my independence to a rather grand vindication. The authorities in Dundee sent over an officer, who informed us that eighteen of the watches had been recovered there, and that they had ascertained, by the confession of Mitchell, that the thieves had been residing in Edinburgh, in a certain tavern kept by a Mrs Walker. Mr Moxey got the intelligence, and whether or not it was that he had been suddenly seized with the ambition of becoming a practical detective I cannot say; but true it is that, without any communication to me, he set out with the Dundee officer to find out Mrs Walker, and, no doubt, recover the remainder of the watches. Well, I allowed them full rope, and they wandered about for a whole day, without being able to find this same tavern. I knew very well what they were after, and could have led them to the house as direct as to the jail, but I abstained from all interference, where my services were, as I thought, superseded. Perhaps there was a little cunning--what could we do without it?--at the bottom of my very virtuous indignation.

At length, and when utterly exhausted, my superior called me in the evening.

"James," said he, "I can make nothing of this inquiry; there is no Mrs Walker's tavern in Edinburgh."

"Why, sir, hadn't you better continue the search all night?" said I; "you may get the house before the morning."

He looked at me to see the state of my face, and smiled, for he was a very good-natured man.

"Do you mean what you recommend?" said he.

"To be sure I do," said I. "It was no wish of mine that you should begin the search, but seeing you have begun it, and every moment is precious, I think you should end it before you sleep."

"But I _have_ ended it."

"Yes, in your way, but not exactly in mine. However, I am wearied, and, if you please, while you are _beginning_ where you _ended_, I shall go to bed."

"I have done enough to-day," was the reply; "I shall see what more can be done to-morrow. I have some letters to write."

Leaving him, I went out, but in place of going down the High Street home, I proceeded to Smith's Close, where I knew Mrs Walker had her tavern, and had had it for years.

"Mrs Walker," said I, as the good woman opened the door, "did two young men lodge with you for a few days lately?"

"Ay," replied she.

"Will you shew me where they slept?"

"Surely."

And leading the way, she shewed me into a bedroom with one bed in it.

I then began to look about in my ordinary way, first very cursorily, and finding nothing, where I expected nothing, I got upon my knees, and sprawled in under the bed, so low being the bottom that it was with great difficulty I could get a part of my body in. I then came out again, as most people do when they get into any kind of holes, except one, pulling out after me a pillow-case, apparently, that is, to the touch, filled with hay, and so, to be sure, in undoing the mouth, I found it was. On pulling out the hay, however, I brought along with it a towel containing something hard.

"There will be eggs among the hay," said the landlady.

"Laid by _cocks_, perhaps," said I, as I undid the towel.

And there I laid open as pretty a sight as one could wish to see--thirty watches, white and yellow, just lovely to behold.

"Are you a wizard, Mr M'Levy?" said the woman, as she held out her hands; "all that in my house, and me as ignorant of it as a sucking child!"

"I don't doubt you, Mrs Walker," said I; "but confess that you think I should be content."

"Content!" replied she; "I know not what would content you if these didn't. Just offer them to me, and see whether or not I would be content."

"But I am not content," said I; "I want one more."

"Well, I aye thought you were a reasonable man, Mr M'Levy."

"'A WANT SPOILS PERFECTION,' Mrs Walker," said I; "and I will not be satisfied till I get this want supplied."

Rolling up my watches I left the house, and went direct to the Office. Mr Moxey was busy with his letters.

"What?" said he, "here again, James! I thought you had gone to bed."

"I have just something to do first," said I, as I laid down the parcel, (retaining the bundle of hay.) "Mrs Walker, tavern-keeper, Smith's Close, Grassmarket, presents her compliments to Mr Moxey, and begs to send him two dozen and a half of fresh eggs from Arbroath."

"Eggs to me! are you mad?" But beginning to smell, as he suspected, a trick, he opened the towel, and saw before him Mr C----'s thirty watches.

"Where got?" he asked.

"Where, but in Mrs Walker's tavern, where they naturally fell to be."

"And unknown to her?"

"Close up to the wall beneath the bed, and all, like eggs, enclosed in this hay."

"I'll never interfere with your searches again," he added, laughing. "I'll write this moment, and make C---- a happy man."

"Yes," said I; "and tell him, that, though I'm a _safe_ enough _man_, I'm not 'a patent safe.'"

"We've got all."

"No, 'A WANT SPOILS PERFECTION,'" said I. "There's one awanting, and without that the rest are nothing."

"Mr C---- will scarcely think that," said he. "You have done enough to-day, and I think you had better go to bed."

"No, I must have _that_ watch, otherwise I could sleep none."

I then went to the desk, and taking a printed form of one of our complaints, not filled up, and not signed of course, I put it quietly in my pocket, departed, and took my way to the man Hart's once more. I found him in, just preparing to go to bed.

"My last visit, Hart," said I; "I am come once more for the watch you got from the friend of Mitchell."

"I told you before," said he, "that I have no such watch, and never had."

"And I tell you that I have the very best authority for knowing that you have. Now, Hart, I have known you for some time, and would rather save you than banish you, but," pulling out the useless bit of printed paper, "I have no discretion. There are certain people called authorities, you know, and they have long arms. Do you see that paper? Did you ever hear of such a thing as a complaint?"

"Do you mean a warrant of apprehension?" said he.

"Just as you choose to call it," replied I, taking out my handcuffs. "I am sorry for this duty imposed upon me, but either you or I must suffer. You must walk up to the Office, or I must bid farewell to it."

My man got into a pensive mood, and looked on the floor.

The conjurors on the stage do their work with little things, and they deceive the senses; but they don't often touch the heart. I have done some things in my conjuring way with very puny instruments. Yes, the heart is a conjurable commodity, very simple and helpless when operated upon successfully, and I was here trying to vanquish a stronger one than Mrs Donald M'Leod's, by the means of a bit of paper, with a few words of print on it, and a loop of leather. I have sometimes suspected that the world is juggled in a similar way, only the juggle is not very often known. If so, I may be allowed my small devices, especially when used in the cause of what is good and lawful. I wanted only to save another man's watch. A bit of paper not much larger, once saved the lives of more Roman senators than my watches amounted to altogether.

The first sight of my talisman was not enough. Mr Hart was wary. He hesitated, and struggled with himself for a considerable time--not so much, I thought, for the sake of the watch, as from fear that, after all, I would apprehend him.

"You will do _me_," said he, "as you did the Highlander's wife."

"No," replied I, "I will be on honour with you. Look,--you may make sure work,--I'll not take the watch out of your hands till I have burned the warrant."

The promise caught him. He drew on his stockings again,--for he had been preparing for bed,--put on his shoes and hat, and getting a candle, lighted it.

"Wait here," said he, and went out.

I don't like these _leavings_, I have sometimes found no _returns_; so I followed him to the door, and dogged him to the foot of a close not far from his house. He went up till he came to an old thatched byre, to the top of which he got by means of a heap of rubbish. When I saw the candle glimmering on the top of the house, a solitary light amidst the darkness, and all around as still as death, I could not help thinking of the romance that hangs round the secret ways of vice. The cowkeeper, as he fed his charge, never suspected that there was a treasure over crummie's head; no more did the urchins, who rode on the rigging, dream of the presence of so wonderful a thing to them as a gold watch.

All safe, said I to myself, as I saw the light changing its place, and descending. Then it came down the close, and we stood face to face.

"Here it is," said he; "but I tell you once for all, that I am as powerful a man as you, and that"----

"Stop," said I, "no need, my good fellow; give me your candle. There," continued I, as I applied the blank complaint to the flame, and saw it flare up and die away into a black film, "there's your bargain,--now mine."

And I got the watch, and supplied the _want_.

"Good night, my man; you will sleep sounder without the care and fear of this stolen watch than with it."

This bit of sentiment struck him.

"Well, I believe I will," he said, with a little thickening of the windpipe; "I'll have nothing more to do with stolen property. I have never been happy since I got possession of it."

In a short time, I was before Mr Moxey again, whose letters threatened to terminate in night-work.

"Put that to the rest," said I; "_the want is supplied_,--thirty-two and eighteen make up the fifty, I believe."

"You are refined, James," said he; and perhaps he would not have said it if he had known the story of the old complaint, which for the time I kept to myself. Self-love has its weaknesses. If I had told my device, I might have gratified my vanity; but my trick would have become common property, and thereby lost its charm.

After my day's work, I went home, and was soon asleep.

I acquired a little honour in this matter, although I considered it was not much more than apprentice-work. I had no objection, however, that my brother bluecoats of the bonny toun should see that M'Levy had not lost the keenness of his scent for such secreted articles as those stolen watches; and this shews that we have our little drops of enjoyment amidst our cares and anxieties, ay, and dangers, and, thank God, happiness is a comparative affair. The word "danger" suggests a few words. I have often been asked, "M'Levy, were you never hurt?" My answer being no,--"M'Levy, was you ever afraid?" My answer the same, though I have been amidst glittering knives before now, ay, and fiery eyes, brighter than the knives; but I early saw that a bold front is the best baton. A detective is done the moment his eye quivers or his arm falters. If firm, there is no risk, or if any, it is from the cowards. A brave thief has something like an understanding of the relation he bears to the laws and its officers. He has a part to play, and he plays it with something so much like the honour of the Honeycombs at cards or dice, that it would surprise you. These latter, to be sure, are only sliders too, and the end of their descent is often deeper than that of their humble brethren of the pea and thimble.

I have only to add, that my men were forthwith brought to trial. The real pith of my histories is to me the _end_; yes, all their _charm_ to me lies in the tail, although others, and you may readily guess who they are, may think that the _sting_ lies there. I would not, however, give the fact that Clerk got his seven years, and Mitchell his eighteen months as a resetter, for all the _eclat_ accorded to any ingenuity I had displayed in bringing about these happy consummations.

The Coal-Bunker.

A certain small critic once took it into his head to laugh at another critic for commencing a learned essay with the words, "We are all born idiots," and the reason of the chuckle, though on the wrong side, was evident enough; and yet, methinks, the wise saying might have had a tail, to the effect, "and many of us live and die idiots." At least I know that I have met many imbeciles,--ay, even of that absolute kind who will not be taught that pain is pain, so that I am obliged to differ with Solomon when he says that "experience teacheth fools." How many beacon flashes, with red streaks in them, have I not thrown out, amidst the darkness of crime, to keep my children off the quicksands and the shelving rocks, and the shipwrecks have been as numerous as ever! Have I not proved the Happy Land to be a hell, resounding with oaths, screams, and hysterical ravings, not the songs of angels, and yet case after case proved the truth of the wise saying?

Another flash of the beacon--with perhaps redder streaks--something of the old story, yet with a difference. On the second flat of the Happy Land there lived for some considerable time, in 1848, two young women, Isabella Marshall and Margaret Tait. Their den was of the common order,--the room and the hiding-hole, the bed, the fir-table, and two chairs, the teapot and cups, two or three broken plates, the bottle and glass, and so forth,--squalor everywhere, like the green mould which springs up the more when the sun of domestic comfort flies away at the sight of crime. Yes, the green mould on the once fair living temples; for let them wash, and scrub, and "scent up" as they pleased, and deck out in the stolen or thrice-redeemed finery, the snare of uncircumcised eyes and sensual hearts was only the covering of impurity. Yet how all this goes on and thrives. One might be tempted to say, that the lovers of "the beautiful" (?) are something like the gobemouches, who admire a little tang or _hautgout_. Look you, I use the _adjective_ here, just with the proper amount of derision; for although the fairer of the two conjunct tenants of the den, Bella, was admired, no one could miss the Cain mark of the class. Don't you know it? Coarse snobs, with cassowary gizzards, might think they saw delicacy of skin and colour; while others, with a modicum of true refinement, would try to find another name--not easy, I confess--perhaps livid sickliness, reminding one of a decayed peony of the pale variety. Don't let us mention the faded lily. But what matters it, when the thing is patent to all but those who will not be taught by experience, just because there is nothing inside to respond to the touch of common sense. Yet withal there is something curious about Nature's manoeuvres, in fencing as she does to conceal the cancer-spots on her favourites, just as if she were so fond of her few beauties that she will cling to them to the last, supporting their charms even amidst the blight of vice. Of Margaret I must speak otherwise,--a strong, burly wench, with little to attract, but capital hands at a grip, or what is not exactly the same, a gripe, and a tilt where ferocity stands against self-preservation. The two were very well mated; for while the one could allure, the other could secure.

But as the den was incomplete without the hiding-hole, so neither was this copartnership of Marshall & Co. perfect without the indispensable "bully;" for though Margaret could do wonders in her way, she could derive little aid from the delicate Isabella. So James Kidd, a stout young fellow, the Fancy of both, who apportioned his protection and favour between them according as they supplied him with money, was the chosen partner,--a fellow who, in such a connexion and conspiracy, had found an attraction which tore him from his home and his mother, whose heart he had broken. Nor is it easy otherwise to form a proper estimate of this species of ruffian, pouncing from a hole on a man whose powers of resistance he does not know. He must close in a struggle, which, though never intended to be deadly on his part, may become so, by a resistance or counter attack more powerful than his own. All this he must do in the very heart of a populous city, and in a large house of many flats, where he can count upon no more than the hush of other fiends, who may screen, though they will take no hand in another's business. It is in such a scene, enacted in a close room, sometimes with the light extinguished, and the actors doing their work in the dark, that we can form an adequate idea of the true _furor_ of robbery. Even a listener at the door would hear only the bodily contortions--the deep breathing--the muttered vengeance--all a deep bass to the stifled treble of a woman's passion grasping at gold. I have known of two such conflicts going on in this "Happy Land" at the same moment,--the great scenes being illustrated the while by orgies in the other dens, the laughter from which drowned the dull sounds of the conflicts.

In the particular conspiracy I am now to relate, the scheme of attack was different from what was usually followed, as you will understand when I introduce Mr ---- of ----; and you have only at present to keep in mind the general way of "doing" the victims:--the spring-out of the concealed bully--the seizure of his object--the assistant women rifling and robbing in the still flickering light--the sudden disappearance of the principal actor, which aids the blasphemous oaths of the subordinates that they know nothing of him, while it leaves the conversational winding-up to those whose conversational powers are so seldom at fault.

On a certain night of the cold month of December, the delicate Isabella, dressed in the usual mackerel-bait, only a little subdued by the soft muff and boa, so suggestive of softness and delicacy in the wearer, went out on her mission of love, leaving Kidd and Margaret to await the bringing in of the prey. Nor was it long before she encountered the sympathetic Mr ---- from Cumberland, who could make pleasure wait on business--just as a pretty handmaiden who comes and goes, and goes and comes. Oh yes, seldom coy, that faithful helpmate of anxious hearts--always everywhere and yet nowhere, turning her face and disappearing to return again. Then why shouldn't sympathy for a tender creature, exposed to a December chill, help the sympathy due to himself? He would not prey on that tenderness--only purchase a little pleasure with money that would nurse the seller in that land of bliss, where Justice would see to a fair bargain, Love filling the scales with hearts. So Mr ---- would go with Isabella; all in the old way--respectable house--matronly mistress. Why, it would even be a duty to warm with a glass of generous spirits so gentle a creature. Up the North Bridge, and down the High Street--a sudden stand at the foot of the stair of the Happy Land. Mr ---- did not think there was much promise of pleasure in that dark old region of sin, and he would be off and leave her who required so much sympathy from hard-hearted man. But Mr ---- was a man of feeling notwithstanding, and how could he resist an appeal to his heart by one who asked no more than his arm up the stair? Nor did he. With Isabella receiving the proffered support, he mounted the stair. They entered the dingy lobby, and came to a door. The gentle knock, not to disturb the decent woman, and Margaret

----, "who knew the meaning of the same,"

opened, but not until Kidd had got into the closet.

Whether it was that our gentleman had heard some noise of a retreat, or that he had had his prior doubts confirmed by the smoky appearance of the den, I cannot tell, but certain it is that the startled lover stopped again.

"No, I have seen enough," he cried, and was retreating, when Margaret, laying hold of him, pulled him in by main force.

"Away so soon," she cried, laughing, while yet retaining her masculine grasp, "and not even bid us good night?"

"Or offer us a glass," added the gentle Bella. "Surely two women can't harm a man!"

But Mr ----, who had felt, and was feeling, the tenderness of Margaret's love embrace, was perhaps more dissatisfied than ever, and hearing the click of the bolt under Isabella's stealthy hand got more resolute. Out goes the light, and now commenced one of those struggles for which the Happy Land was so famous. Another man, on thus finding himself encaged, and so suddenly deprived of light, might have succumbed to fear; but our hero was not of the timid order, who can enjoy love and be dead to the trump of war. Not even when he heard the spring of Kidd, as he bounced from his cell, did he think of yielding, but, by a strong effort throwing off the women, he made towards the door. He had even succeeded so far as to search for the lock, but found, to his dismay, that the key had been taken out. On turning round he was immediately in the grasp of Kidd, with the women hanging upon him. And now was the real conflict; all the contortions--the deep breathings from the oppressed lungs--the thumps on the sides of the room--but not a word of speech, only smothered mutterings and oaths ground between the teeth.

The effort on the part of the assailants was to get the gentleman on his back on the floor; nor could this issue be prolonged for many minutes, with a force of three arrayed against one. Yet the attempt failed more than once, an interval being occupied by a cry for help, shouted at the top of his voice, and responded to by an orgie-laugh from the further end of the lobby, and some suppressed mirth at the back of the door, as if some creatures of human shape were there, in the full enjoyment of what was likely to be their own game at another time. As confessed by Mr ---- afterwards, this evidence of how completely he was, as it were, doubly or trebly caged, struck him with more dismay than even the extinguishing of the light or the bound of Kidd from his recess. The idea took hold of him that he was to be murdered, and though under this energy, inspired by the love of life, the increased strain brought up in his enemies by his now desperate resistance laid him flat on his back, with such force that his head dirled to the brain.

The remaining part of the process was easy--the gold watch pulled out of his pocket, the click of the bolt, and Kidd was gone.

"Catch the thief!" cried Margaret, with just enough of force as to reach the ears of the poor victim, as he lay stunned with the knock on the head, and almost exhausted by the struggle.

"He's gone," added the gentle Isabella.

"Who is gone?" said Mr ----, as he looked up in the now lighted room.

"Why, the d----d villain who has taken your watch," replied Margaret.

"An accomplice," groaned the victim, as he attempted to rise.

"It's a lie, sir," replied Margaret again, with increased fury, as she breathed fast from her exertions. "The fellow lives ben in the other room, and this is not the first time he has played us a trick of the same kind; but he'll be hanged some day."

"Yes, and the sooner the better," joined Isabella. "Come, we cannot help it. There's no use following him. Give us a dram for defending you."

"Ay, for saving your life," added her neighbour; "for we know he would have murdered you."

"I felt _your_ hand on my throat," cried Mr ----.

"Bob's, you mean," was the answer. "He has a hand like a woman, and yet it would choke a tiger."

"I felt all your _six_ hands on me," roared he, unable to stand even this transparent dodge.

"How could we know you from him in the dark?" cried Margaret. "We intended to pull him off, and that's our thanks, and you'll not even give us a 'budge,' but accuse two innocent girls for being robbers."

"Oh, it's the way with them all," added Isabella. "They first ruin us, and then charge us with theft; but we deserve it, don't we, for trusting their lying words."

"Liars and thieves, one and all of you," replied the gentleman. "You know you inveigled me here to be robbed by your bully. That watch cost me £20."

"Well, then," said Margaret, "give us £5--you have money about you somewhere--and we'll tell you where you will catch him."

"Worse and worse," ejaculated Mr ----; "but what am I doing here?" he added, as he for the first time, after recovering from his stupor, bethought himself of following the thief; and gathering up his hat, and arranging his torn garments, he made for the door.

"Not till you pay us for saving your life," said Margaret, as she stood between him and the door, with the intention, no doubt, merely of gaining time for Kidd.

And so, to be sure, she made only a faint effort to hold him back, and he, pulling open the door, rushed out into the dark passage, saluted as he disappeared by the hoarse laugh of the women, and, as he thought, some other indications of the same kind from the sympathisers further ben. Glad to get off a living man, but yet not inclined to give up as lost his valuable property, he half walked and half tumbled down the stair of this, to him, most _unhappy_ land; nor did he stop till he was in my presence in the Office. A few words, uttered with much difficulty, very soon satisfied me that he was one of a host who had been turned away from the Happy Land with less ceremony than "Frau Schnipps," on an occasion not altogether similar.

"Wait there," said I, "I will bring up the women in the first place."

"Oh, you know them?" said he.

"Yes, about as well as you, sir."

"And that's too well," said he, with something like a heave of the chest.

"Bell Marshall and Margaret Tait," said I; "but they haven't the watch, and I know they will say they were helping you. The man is my object."

So leaving him, and taking with me two constables, I went to the scene. As I expected, I found the girls. Two or three of the children of the Happy Land were with them, all engaged in drinking and laughing, no doubt at the excellent drama that had just ended, and upon which they thought that the green curtain had been drawn for ever, for it is not very often that the slain hero makes his appearance again at our Office; and there can be no question that sometimes it is as prudent to pocket shame as it is to put a gold sovereign into your purse, with the difference, that while the one ought to remain, the other should come out for the benefit of society. I was not expected, and was accordingly greeted with the honour of perfect silence.

"The old game, my lasses," said I, as I beckoned to the others to get off, which they very soon did, growling as they went along the passage; "where is the gentleman's watch?"

"Search, and answer for yourself," replied Margaret. "The man has it."

"What man?"

"How should we know? He came in upon us; we did our best to save the gentleman, and the scurvy dog wouldn't give us a penny to buy pins."

"Came _out_, you mean," said I; "the old story, 'the great unknown.' Yet I think I know him."

Just as I was speaking, I felt some small object under my foot, and stooping down found a small gold watch-key. The women looked sharp to try and find out what I had picked up and put into my pocket, but they said nothing, neither did I.

"Come," said I. "The gentleman is in the Office, and wishes to thank you for trying to save his life."

"Umph, and true, by ----," said the reprobate.

"A terrible fellow this 'unknown,'" said I, rather by way of amusing myself as they were getting equipped. "Don't pare your nails, for I intend to introduce him to you."

And proceeding to make a search, which I knew would be attended by no greater result than a mocking laugh from my lasses, I was forced to be content with my small recovery of the gold key.

I marched them up to quarters where they had been before. It was too late that night to go after Kidd. I was sure enough of him, and an early catch was of no use as regarded the recovery of the watch, which I knew he would not carry with him a moment longer than he could find a hiding-place for it, and that he would find far more readily than one for himself.

Next morning some of the constables, who knew where Kidd's mother lived in the Pleasance, thought very wisely they might help me in their way by searching the house. This they accordingly did before I was well out of bed; but their report was unfavourable. He was not in the house, and the mother denied all knowledge of her worthless son. I have often had reports of this kind made to me before, but I have been always fond of making my own searches. So away I went to do the work over again; but, to say the truth, I had little hope. It was as early as nine.

"I want to know where James is," said I, as I entered the little shop.

"God bless me," said she, with wondering eyes, "more policemen! why the men are scarcely awa'. They searched the hail house, and found naebody. Am I no enough tormented and heartbroken wi' a neer-do-weel son, but I maun be treated as his keeper, whether I hae him or no, and my house searched by man after man, as if I mysel' were a breaker of the laws."

"I know you are not a breaker of the laws, Mrs Kidd," replied I, calmly, "and that's the very reason why you should even cheerfully allow an officer to go through your house. I am not in the habit of stealing, and, besides, I wish you to go along with me."

"But there's nae occasion," was the reply. "Have I no tauld ye your men are scarcely out o' the house, and lang and sair they searched. It's no that I fear aught, nor the trouble either, but it's the nonsense."

"I will put up with the nonsense," said I.

"Maun I tell you a third time," said she, with increased firmness, "that my house has been searched by twa men, wi' twa een each, this morning already?"

"Then two eyes more can do the less harm," replied I, with a quiet pertinacity at least equal to her own, especially, and no doubt a consequence of, the said pertinacity on her part, which appeared to me somewhat more than was required, according to her own theory.

"Weel, een here or een there, there's naebody in my house, and what's the use of our paying for your men, when you have nae faith in them ony mair than in me?"

An adroit reply, but somehow the more she said the more I thought, only in a different direction. I had dallied myself into suspicion, and had little time to spare.

"Come," said I, "let us end this; but I have consideration. I don't want to trouble you to go up stairs with me."

"I've been up already with the men," she persisted, "and really I'm no just pleased to hae my word doubted. I'm no a policeman, and I've aye thought that when a man doesna believe me, he thinks me a leer. Just gae your wa's, and be sure there's nae James Kidd in my house."

"Well," replied I, getting impatient, "I must just step up myself."

"Weel," was the tardy reply, "a wilfu' man maun hae his ain way. Come awa', and ye'll see what you'll mak o't."

And leading the way very reluctantly, she preceded me up to the little flat. I entered the kitchen, and began to peer about as carelessly to appearance as usual; but I confess I saw nothing which could lead me to suspect that there was any human being there except Mrs Kidd and myself; and she did not seem inclined to condole with me in my disappointment, though I could see, too, that she abstained from shewing any triumph in my discomfiture.

"You see how little harm my survey is doing you," said I. "It is even pleasant work."

"It's no to me, whatever it may be to you," said she. "You are searching for my son, and isn't that enough for the heart of a mother? You're maybe no a father, and canna ken thae things. Ay, it's sair to hae the heart broken by the hands that should hae comforted it and bound it up. It's the turning back o' the yearning that braks it; but now I fancy ye're satisfied James is no here."

And I felt for the poor woman. I had the parlour to look through; but as the sounds of her grief fell on my ear, I stood musing a little, and when the mind is occupied, the eye trifles, and mine trifled, as well as did my foot, as I used it in kicking away a bit of coal, a "churl" as we call it, that lay before me. At the same instant my eye caught the heap of coals in the corner, and two thoughts came into my head--first, why the coals should be in _that_ place; and secondly, why the "churl" should be in _this_ place. It had not come there where it lay by having been dropped, because it was not in the line to the fire, and then it was at the edge of a little door which had escaped my notice; or rather, I should say, it was so small an affair, without sneck or lock-handle, that I thought it a mere cupboard. Again, why was the "churl" so situated as if it had come out of the small recess? And once more, why was the cupboard without a projection whereby it could be opened? Ah, well, how the mind will work even when it is playing.

"What place is this?" said I.

"Oh, a little cupboard," said Mrs Kidd; "just a place for cups and saucers."

"Which you use every day?"

"Every day."

"And yet there is no sneck-handle, whereby you can get in when you are maybe in a hurry for a cup of tea?"

No answer from poor Mrs Kidd, and the thought came that the coals in the corner were surely out of place, in a little tidy house; and just mark how that kind of natural logic works.

"I should just like to look in."

"And what would be the use? Hae ye never seen a number o' marrowless cups and saucers?"

And maybe something even more marrowless, thought I, as, taking out a penknife and inserting it in a small slit, something like that of a check lock, I opened the door, and there, lying in a hole--the veritable bunker--was my friend of the Happy Land, extended on a small mattress. On this exposure, the poor mother covered her face with her hands and sobbed hysterically.

"The last o't," she said, in a voice broken by sobs. "The lang train o' griefs a' frae whaur there should hae come comfort and help is wound up. I hide and conceal nae mair, and what signified my hiding when God saw through a'. Tak him, sir; and may ye mak o' him a better man to his brither-man, than he has been a son to me."

"Has he given you a watch?" said I, in the expectation of profiting by what I considered to be a breaking down.

"No," she replied, "I have never had ony o' his secrets, nor for a lang time has he been near me, except when he wanted meat. His wild ways are best kenned to himsel', but I fear women and drink have been his ruin."

"Rise, James," said I, "and give me the watch you robbed the gentleman of last night in the Happy Land."

"I deny it," replied the incorrigible rogue, as he rose slowly, cursing between his teeth.

I searched the house, but the watch was never recovered. The three were brought to the High Court. It was a difficult case, in consequence of the darkness of the scene, which prevented recognition of Kidd; but a strange circumstance supplied the want. Mr ---- could swear that Kidd had a large hard wart upon the right hand--the rough pressure of which in his neck had pained him so as to leave an impression on his mind. The wart was found still upon the thumb. Then the watch-key served its purpose, and it was found that Kidd was the daily associate of the women. They were each transported for fourteen years.

The Half-Crowns.

I have often thought we are a little mole-eyed in social questions. How much were we to have paid the devil for our letting in mental food to the people, for the introduction of machinery, for giving up hanging poor wretches! and yet we have paid him nothing,--all movements coming to a poise. When I lay hold of a robber by the throat, we have a tussle, but it does not last long. Either he or I may be down; we don't murder each other; the forces destroy themselves, and there's peace. Where is all the expected crop of forgeries and coinings that were to spring up under the spread of the guano of education? The art of learning to write was to be the learning to forge, and electro-plating (if I can spell it) was to turn off half-crowns by the thousand. Nothing of all this. The people are better fed, the working men better employed, fewer murders, fewer forgeries, fewer coinings. I think we have rather taken from his majesty below, and I suspect he is fretful. What a fury we would put him in were we to take the young from him, of whom, in a certain class, he has had the charge since Adam coined that bad penny, Cain!

So I thought, when I told the story of the pewter spoons. I thought I had not another case of coining in my books; but I find I was wrong. Not long ago, in November 1858, I happened (I was always happening) to meet, at the foot of the stair leading to Ashley Buildings, in Nether Bow, near John Knox's Church, a clot of little boys and girls busy looking at some wonderful things, with eyes as bright and round as a new-turned-out shilling. On bending my head over the little people, and directing my eyes down through the midst of them, I found that the objects of their delight were a number (turned out to be a dozen) of beautiful glittering half-crowns and florins, all new from the mint. Was ever a nest of Raggediers shone upon with a blaze of such glory! Did ever her Majesty's face appear so beautiful to any of her loyal subjects!

On inquiry, I found that the urchins, when playing in the stair of Ashley Buildings, had found the pieces secreted in the corners of two window-soles. They were placed outside, so that any person going up the stair could reach them without entering any of the flats. I examined the places of deposit under the direction of my leaders--six of the pieces were on the window-sole of the first flat, and the other six on that of the highest. Then they had been cunningly placed in small-scooped crevices, close by the rybats. On coming down with my coins in my hand, and my troop around me, all chattering and vindicating their rights to the waifs, I was a little taken aback by the appearance of two ladies coming up the dark, dingy stair. At the first glance, and under the impression of the rustle of their heavy silk skirts, I took them for philanthropical grandees from the New Town on a visit of mercy to the hags of Ashley Land; and no wonder, for the very gayest of our crinolined nymphs, so far as regarded silk velvet and ribbons, were not qualified to tie the latchet of one of their boots. Nor was my impression changed when, standing to a side to give space to the swirl of their wide skirts, as well as honour to their progress, I looked respectfully, if not with a little awe (not much in my way) into their faces,--delicate, pretty, genteel, nor with a single indication of the flaunting lightness sometimes, in my experience, accompanying, but not adorning very gay attire.

On ascending two steps above me, one of them turned round, and, with an inquiring gaze, asked what was the matter, in a clear, bell-like voice, which was to me at the moment perhaps the more musical, because it came from such a delicate throat; but the speech was English, and we want that _spoken_ music in Scotland,--at least there's not much of it among the denizens of Ashley Land.

"A little row among the boys," said I, just as a suddenly rising thought suggested something,--I won't say what.

"He's ta'en our half-croons, mem," cried a bantam, whose windpipe I could have squeezed.

Upon hearing which, my ladies turned somewhat abruptly, and proceeded down stairs. I could even fancy that the noise of their silks was increased by a flurry,--a movement altogether which I could not, even with the aid of my sudden thought, very well understand. On getting to the foot of the stair, and quit of my brawlers, I observed my two damsels walking majestically up the High Street, as if they had utterly forgotten their visit of mercy, for which their purses, and probably their Bibles, had been put in preparation. I had intercepted grace, condescension, and mercy, even when about to light, like ministering angels, on the hearts and homes of the miserable. Well, another time--mercy is long-suffering.

Just as I thus found myself a little satirical perhaps, up comes the man Richardson, who lived in Ashley Buildings.

"It's not often," said he, "that folks like me and my wife have lodgers in our small room like yon," pointing in the direction of my ladies.

"Like whom?" said I.