Chapter VII: Part 7

"Why, did you not see them coming out of our stair?"

"Yes, I saw two ladies superbly dressed; who are they?"

"Just my lodgers; your common lodging-house keepers can't touch that, I think."

"Why, no," said I; "but you haven't told me who or what they are."

"That's a hard question," replied he; "I can only say they are English, very polite, and pay their score."

"Any more?" said I; for although I had no doubt of the man's honesty, I did not wish to be forward with my half-crowns, as a "let up" in the first instance.

"Why, we are not sure of them," said he. "They are the strangest customers we ever had. They keep their door shut, and every second day there comes to them a man, as much a tailor and jeweller-made swell in his way as they are in theirs. Then the door is still more sure to be locked, and the key-hole screened."

"Did you ever hear his name?"

"Oh, yes--Mr Harvey."

"And theirs?"

"Miss Matilda Jerome and Miss Elizabeth Jackson."

"Is he English too?" inquired I.

"Yes, of the highest tone, but very condescending. He asks Mrs Richardson how she does, and she says, 'Quite well, I thank you, sir;' but this doesn't prevent her, you know, from sometimes trying a _chink_--the _key-hole_ is an impossibility."

"And what has she seen?"

"Not much yet. The little is strange. The great Mr Harvey, the moment he gets in, takes off his fine suit and his rings, and puts on a fustian jacket and breeches. They work at something requiring a great deal of the fire, and then we hear _birrs_, and _clanks_, and _whizzes_--what you might expect where some small machinery is in gear."

"Producing, perhaps," said I, "something like _that_?" shewing him a half-crown piece.

"Our very suspicion," replied he, as he took the piece into his hand, and seemed to wonder at the "turn out" of his little room. "But where got you it?"

"With eleven more, on two of the window-soles of your staircase."

"Hidden there by them?"

"I can't say," replied I; "but hark ye, when would be the best time for me to see the ladies and Mr Harvey together--if in the fustian, so much the better?"

"To-morrow forenoon," replied he. "They are all on the _stravaig_ to-day."

"Well, in the meantime, Richardson, you are mum."

"Dumb."

And leaving my useful informant, I proceeded on my way, ruminating as usual. It didn't need a witch to tell the intention of the deposit, or the place selected for it. The false money would, of course, be dangerous in their room, and even in their pockets it would be imprudent to have more at a time than perhaps the single piece they were trying to utter. The deposit was thus a little outside bank, from which the three might severally supply themselves any number of times a-day; and though the bank stood a chance of being broken, they could lose nothing, while there would always be the difficulty of connecting them with it either as _depositors_ or _drawers_. The scheme exhibited at least adroitness enough to satisfy me that the three were experienced hands. And yet, just observe the insanity of crime, whereby it renders itself a fool to itself. These clever people, no doubt, never thought that their splendid dresses, their engrossing admiration of their persons, and their exacting claims on the attention of those who would have been very willing to pass them by, only tended to the sharpening of official vision.

On making some inquiries at the Office, I learned that from what we knew as yet of the great Mr Harvey, there could be little doubt that he was a personage who for years had been driving the same trade in the south of England, where he had been often in trouble, and where not less than in London he was reputed as the best "coiner" in the kingdom. His companions were also known as adepts, whose beauty and accomplishments in another peculiar line enabled them to help the common store. Nor was Harvey limited to one department alone, being as well adapted and inclined for _taking_ good money as for _coining_ or uttering bad; so that viewing them as possessed of these three sources of income, we need not be astonished at their personal equipment. How little people know of the money that passes, like water over stones, through the hands of such gentry! The swell is talked of as a poor devil, with stolen finery, who lives merely in that sense from hand to mouth, which implies only freedom from want. A swell is not thus made up or maintained. It is an expensive character. The hunger and burst may haunt him as an inevitable condition; but as is the hunger, so is the burst with them--an extravagance this latter that would provoke the envy of many a fast youth, born in a mansion, and who runs through his property as fast as the horse he rides. I am speaking of England. It is seldom that we have the pleasure of seeing the true grandee here. Scotland is too poor for them. Yet I have sometimes caught them grazing on our lean turnips, when the English fields were infested with these foxes, the detectives.

So I had got on my beat no fewer than three swells, and surely a hunter of sorry thieves like me behoved to be on my honour. There is, I understand, a difficult etiquette how to _approach_ the great, and how to _recede_, without shewing to their circumcised eyes the back part of your person. Would I not require a lesson to save me from being dishonoured and disgraced by some offence against the code of genteel behaviour? Might they not smile at my Scotch bluntness and vulgarity, and refuse obedience to a baton of Scotch fir? One consolation at least--if the _rose_ is for polite nostrils, the _thistle_ is for thin skins. I scarcely think that I tried a rehearsal that night; but I was saved from all fears by my hope of being received by my great man in a fustian jacket; and as for the ladies, they might consider an Earlston gingham or a Manchester print sufficient for the trade of melting and silvering.

Next day I was on my watch, when about twelve o'clock I saw my great man enter the stair-foot of Ashley Buildings. The glance I got of him satisfied me that Richardson had not exaggerated his grandeur. Everything on him was of the best, and the jemmy cane shewed the delicacy of the hand by which it was held, and by which, too, it was made to go through those exquisite twirls, so expressive of a total absence of such a thing as thought, always necessarily vulgar, when one is surrounded by vulgar people. I gave him time to be _natural_, that I might be _easy_, and then went up stairs, leaving my assistant and two constables at the foot. Mrs Richardson shewed me in, but the mint was locked, on the principle of the Queen's establishment, where valuables run a risk of being taken away. I knocked and listened. Surely my grandees were in dishabille. At last my appeal, which they knew probably was not an usual one, produced uneasiness, so that the cool-bloodedness, which betokens high breeding, was reversed--low words, but quick--rapid movements--small chatterings. At length, perhaps at mere hazard, a voice inquired--

"Is that you, Missus Richardson?"

"No," replied I.

"Mister Richardson?"

"No," again.

"Who, then?"

"A friend."

And so the door gave way to the charmed word.

"Friend? why, a lie!" said the voice of a man.

"Perhaps not," said I, as I stood before them, and made my usual rapid survey.

I had been wrong in my expectation. The fustian jacket had not taken the place of the surtout, and my ladies were in the same splendid attire I had seen them in on the previous day, only the bonnets were not on their heads--adorned these with an exquisite abundance of fine hair, smooth and glossy, and done up in the first style of fashion. Yes, I defy you to have found in Moray Place more personable young women; nor if I had been there on a visit of condolence for the loss of one of their dearest friends, could I have found manners more staid and correct--I might add graceful, if I could lay claim to knowing much of the true and the false of that accomplishment. But all this I observed by one or two rapid glances diverted from my principal investigation, which latter yielded me at first but little: the indispensable bed--the table and chairs--the plate-rack, and some trunks. It was clear that they had resolved on no work that day, and no trace of their machinery was visible. My principal hope lay in an inviting press; and as I made a motion to proceed towards it, I thought I observed something like an indication that my gentleman would make free with the door; so applying my fingers to my mouth, I gave a shrill whistle, the sound of which echoed through the flat, startled my ladies out of their composure, and, what I wanted, reached the ear of my assistant, who, obeying the call, was instantly at the door.

I now proceeded to my work of search. From the lower part of the press I drew out the identical fustian coat and trousers described to me by Richardson.

"Your working-suit," said I to Mr Harvey, who seemed to survey the articles with extreme contempt. "A fustian coat," continued I, as I traced the blots of chemicals, and traces of quicksilver, and various scorchings, "is a thing I cannot but treat with respect, when it belongs to arms of independence. It is the fustian that makes the broadcloth and the silks."

"They're not mine," said Harvey; "they must belong to the house."

"They ain't Mr Harvey's, I assure you, sir," said Miss Matilda Jerome.

"Perhaps not," said I, as I proceeded, "some people have a habit of possessing things that do not belong to them--_possession_ just wants a point to make _property_, and perhaps this point is awanting here."

Forthwith I produced from the press several likely things--a bottle with quicksilver--some others with chemicals unknown to me--a portable vice with a screw to fix to the table, which latter had the screw mark upon it still--a hammer--files, coarse and fine--the indispensable stamp--but no galvanic battery as I was led to expect,--a circumstance which puzzled me, because I never could suppose that such adepts could be contented with the old process of salt and friction.

I had got enough for my purpose in the meantime, so, turning round--

"Please put on your bonnets and plaids, my ladies," said I, "that you, Mr Harvey, and I, may walk up the High Street to my quarters."

They obeyed with something even like alacrity, on the principle of that sensible man known to history, who, when standing at the gallows foot, said, "If it is to be done, let it be done quickly." Such are the advantages of having to do with genteel people.

I have no doubt we made an excellent appearance in our promenade up the High Street, only I doubt if any one could comprehend the possibility of such people condescending to enter a police cell. In searching the women we got, strangely enough, no bad money, but a considerable amount of good. The deposit on the window soles had been intended for this day's work, and scared a little by its having been taken away, they had resolved on out-door adventures.

I still wanted something, as I have said, to complete the catalogue of my articles in the working department, and, above all, I required to connect Mr Harvey with that, so I applied to him for help.

"I wish to know where you live, when in town, Mr Harvey."

"In Mr Campbell's, Bell's Wynd," he replied promptly affording still the same evidence of the advantages of having to do with high-bred people.

"Then you will please go with me and point it out."

"Certainly."

And getting again my assistant, I proceeded with him to Bell's Wynd, where, having mounted one of the worst stairs in that dark alley, we came to a wretched little dwelling of two rooms and a dark closet. How the great man could have put up in that hovel is difficult to conceive, except upon the supposition that the _swells_ shrink when they get home. With the exception of a truckle-bed and a shake-down, there was scarcely a bit of furniture in the house; nor could I find a recess in any way inviting to me except the dark closet, which was adroitly barricaded by the mattress of the shake-down, upon which Mrs Campbell, a miserable invalid, lay in squalid misery. I made short work here. Laying hold of the mattress, I pulled it and its burden away from the closet door into the middle of the floor. A loud scream burst from the invalid, which, from her look I knew to be intended as a fence to the closet, and not an expression of pain. The door was not locked, the bed and its occupant having probably been deemed a sufficient bar.

"Ye've murdered me," cried the cunning wretch, so near her grave, and yet so keen in the concealment of vice. "The malison o' the Lord light on your head, and blast it! Haud awa'! my grave-claes are in that closet, and nae man will enter till that day when my soul gaes hame to glory."

"If you never die till you're _fit_, you'll live for ever," said I, when I saw there was not a trace of grave-clothes in the dark hole,--from which, however, I brought the galvanic battery, which I had found awanting in Ashley Buildings to complete the apparatus, along with sixteen base shillings. I also got some other things of less importance.

"And now, Mrs Campbell, I will push you back again," said I, as I impelled the mattress to its old place.

"And the devil push _you_ hame," she cried, "for you've murdered me."

And she groaned even in that way which aged people do when their wickedness is brought home to them; for that there was a complicity in these old people with Harvey, I had no doubt, even from the conduct of the harridan,--a conclusion confirmed by the assertion of Campbell himself that Harvey was his nephew.

I now took Mr Harvey back to the Police Office, thinking, as I went, upon the small amount of real happiness enjoyed by these adventurers among the rocks that lie in the midst of civilisation. Harvey's domestic comforts may be guessed from the account I have given. He was a man, and could bear the want of ease at night, in consideration of his privilege of walking the streets in a fine dress, and dining in the "Rainbow," with respectable people next box. But what are we to say for the women, with apparently delicate forms, and at least so much of feminine feeling as we might see shining through their really handsome faces? One might sum up all their pleasure in saying, that it consisted in promenading the streets in a silk gown. Even then they cannot be, and are not, devoid of fear. The same fear follows them home to an extinct fire, a truckle-bed with a few thin clothes, into which they huddle themselves, and try in sleep to get away from their own thoughts,--which thoughts sometimes go into the forms of dreams, wherein they take their own way, rejoicing in the tricks of a horrible nightmare. Such a being is everything but the woman she was intended to be,--her enjoyments everything but the affections and sympathies she was made to feel. Of course, I am assuming here, and I go upon appearances, that Miss Matilda Jerome and Miss Elizabeth Jackson were not originally Arabs. I might make another estimate in that case, for these are seldom touched by fear; and being against society, as society is against them, there is some inversion in them, the true nature of which, in enabling them to seek some strange kind of happiness, we cannot understand,--at least I could never understand it, and I have seen them in all humours. I suspect, however, that what we here sometimes call happiness, is only a kind of accommodation of misery. Thus they take the _sign_ for the _thing_; and when they are roaring over the tankard, they think they are enjoying themselves. Perhaps they have more of the real thing in the hardness of their rebellion; for I think I have read somewhere, that man (and woman too, I suspect) is such a strange being that he can feel a pleasure in the very _spite_ of pleasure. I can't say I would relish that happiness very much.

Well, I find I am at my old trade of spinning morals, without a touch of which I suspect my experiences would not be of much service to mankind; and if I had had no hope of that, I doubt if I would have been at the trouble of opening my black book of two thousand detections. I have little more to say about my grandees. They were brought to trial before the High Court, where, on the evidence of Richardson and his wife, the urchins who found the pieces, our own testimony, and the tale told by the utensils, they were found guilty. This was not, as I have said, the first, nor the second, nor the third time for the gentleman; but the ladies had never been handled so roughly before. Harvey got eight years' penal servitude, and the two belles five years each. As they sat at the bar, I could not help thinking of their appearance that day I took them for ladies of rank on a mission of charity and mercy. Surely our real LADIES, in their present rage for finery, never think how easily, and by what base copyists, they are imitated.

One word more on this subject. I am certainly not over-fastidious as regards female dress. I have seen it in all its varieties, from the scanty cincture that adorned our first mother Eve, to the ingenious complications of modern taste and refinement; but I must observe, with all proper deference to the LADIES, that, in adopting the prevalent redundancy of skirt, the _imitated_ have become the _imitators_, as the first of these "circumambient amplitudes" that I ever saw in Edinburgh, was sported by one of the most distinguished "Nightingales" that ever walked Princes Street. In fact, after the experience of thirty years, I find it almost impossible to distinguish the maiden from the matron,--the human vehicle for smuggled or surreptitiously acquired property from the sonsy housekeeper,--or the frail Magdalene, who knows there is a living secret to conceal, from the _robust_ "habitante" just returned from an annual visit to her country cousins; nay, Paterfamilias himself, I have heard, on entering a cab or a box at the theatre, has _breathed_, if he did not _utter_, a heartfelt and pocketfelt anathema against such a superabundant and inconvenient display of hoop and crinoline.

Without attempting to quote the words of Pope as to "ribs of whale," I would simply say to all LADIES, as Hamlet said to the players, "I pray you avoid it."

The Society-Box.

The way by which the ranks of thieves and robbers are recruited is by the _old_ teaching the _young_ the figure system. Yes, there is a proselytism of evil as well as of good. Society is always straining after the making of parties, and while churches are working for members, the old thieves are busy enlisting the young. The advantage, I fear, is with the latter, for there's something more catching in the example of taking another man's property than that of praying for grace. Of course I am here looking to the young, and I make this statement without caring much how your beetle-browed critic may take it.

I have known a good many of those dominies of the devil's lore, not a few of them with streaks of grey on their heads, who, having themselves been taught at the same desk, have taken up the trade as a kind of natural calling, and raised their pupils according to the old morality, "The sweet morsel of another person's property is pleasant to roll under the tongue;" and perhaps the more pleasant, too, that the tongue that _sucks_ is the tongue that _lies_. There was Hugh Thomson, about the cleverest thief in my day, that rogue brought up as many youngsters in the faith as would have filled a conventicle; and what a glorious grip that was I got of him, just as he was trying to reap the fruits of his lesson, through the ingenuity of one of his scholars, William Lang! I would not have exchanged it for the touch of a bride's hand, with the marriage ring upon her finger.

In 1841, there was a Mr Brown who kept a spirit shop in the Low Calton, nearly opposite Trinity College Church. One of those modern unions called "Yearly Societies" was kept in his house, the members paying their contributions on the Monday evenings, which contributions, the produce of toil and sweat of poor, hard-working men, were deposited in the society box, and secured under lock and key. One Monday evening, I was passing down the Calton on my way to Leith Wynd homeward, to get myself refreshed with a cup of tea. In the mouth of an entry, on the other side of the street called the North Back of the Canongate, I observed Hugh and his scholar Lang, engaged, no doubt, in the mutual offices of teaching and learning. I thought I might learn something too, and stepping into the recess of Trinity Church gate, I watched their movements. Shortly, Lang came out--he had become a man by this time, recollect--and having mixed with the workmen, who were going into Brown's shop to make their weekly payments, he went in among the rest.

At first, I confess, I could not understand this. The thief could make nothing of the workmen, even if unknown to them as a thief, which in all likelihood he was, and the idea of his trying the pocket line among fustian jackets never entered my head. But that there was some play to go on, where Thomson was patronising, I could have no doubt whatever. After a time, during which I took care that Thomson should not see me, Lang came out, and, having joined Thomson, the two went off together, with something that sounded in my ears as a laugh, and the meaning of which was made clear to me by a happy thought that occurred to me on the instant like a flash. I now wanted to see Brown by himself, but as the workmen were still going in and coming out, I was obliged to wait a considerable time. Selecting at length a moment when the coast was tolerably clear, I entered the shop. There, in the back room, was the sacred box, devoted to benevolence, and from which some widow and orphans might, before the year expired, receive something that would make _her_ tear less scorching and _their_ cry less shrill--some broken bones, too, broken through the labour and toil of the poor man for the rich one, might have less pain through the charm of that box. Thoughts these pretty enough to some minds, but to such as Thomson quaint, if not funny.

"Mr Brown," said I, as I entered, "will you be kind enough to shew me your list of members?"

"Surely, Mr M'Levy." And he placed the book in my hands.

Running down the names I came to "William Lang, joiner," though all his _junctions_ were between his hand and the property of another.

"I have seen enough," said I; "and now, Mr Brown, you will take especial care to carry your box up-stairs with you to-night to your dwelling-house."

And without giving him time to ask for explanations, which I did not feel much disposed to give, I left him. I knew that Brown shut up late on the pay-nights, and therefore having plenty of time that evening, even in the event of an emergency, I went home to get my tea. After which, and having cogitated a little under its reviving influence, I took another turn down Leith Wynd. I wanted to examine the iron gate leading to the church. On looking at it, I found that the lock was off, and consequently free ingress was afforded to any one wishing to enter. I went to a blacksmith's and got a chain and padlock, the use of which will be apparent, when I mention, that if I adopted the recess within the gate as a look-out, from which I could see Brown's shop, it was as likely to be so used by those we wanted to observe, as by ourselves, the observers.

Having made these preliminary arrangements, I proceeded to the Office, where I secured the services of one or two of the most active constables, besides my assistant, for I knew that having Thomson to cope with, we had something to encounter far more formidable than any other thief or robber within the sound of St Giles's. I was in all this, I admit, fired with the ambition of getting a man who had become as bold as Macbeth under the witches' prophecy. Having waited till about eleven o'clock, the hour when Brown generally closed, I repaired, accompanied by my men, to our place of retreat. We entered cautiously, and shutting the old gate with as little noise as possible, I secured the two halves with the chain and padlock, with which I had provided myself--a proceeding which, as it afterwards appeared, was necessary to the success of our enterprise, but the object of which my men could not at the time very clearly understand. Yet what more likely than that Thomson and his gang should wish to reconnoitre us, as we wished to reconnoitre them. We were soon enclosed, and ready for observation. We saw the light put out in Brown's shop, and heard the locking of the doors both in front and at the back, or rather in the side of the entry which led up to the premises above which the spirit-dealer resided. But more than this, we saw the cautious cashier with the sacred box under his arm, as he stept up the entry--a sight which I enjoyed with a secret chuckle of satisfaction, for it was no mean pride to be up with a man such as Hugh Thomson.

It might be about twelve o'clock before we saw any symptoms of sport. Suddenly, three men, coming apparently from different directions, met, and whispering a few words parted, to act for caution-scouts to each other. Each took a round, casting wary glances to the right and left, and desultory as their movements were, I could recognise Hugh, Lang, and another, David L----, also an old pupil of Thomson's. It seemed to be Thomson's special care to look into the Trinity Church recess, and as we saw him coming forward, we retreated behind the pillars of the gate. He appeared to be taken aback as he observed the gate secured, and taking hold of a railing, he shook it; so that it was evident to me that the place we occupied had been fixed on for retreat, if not for observation. I had thus again the advantage of my old friend, and the moment he receded we resumed our posts. In a few minutes, the different scouts seemed to agree in the opinion that all was safe, and went direct to the work I had anticipated, the moment I saw Lang enter with the members of the society. The front door was not their object; it was the back, or more properly the side one in the entry, which, from the passage being right opposite to us, I could see along, though very indistinctly, scarcely more than to enable me to trace their dark figures against the light thrown in at the farthest opening. None but a keen trapper or snarer can appreciate the pleasure a detective of the true instinctive order feels when engaged in the capture of game so wild, shy, and cunning. Their very cunning is what whets our appetites, and I absolutely burned to embrace the dauntless leader of the gang.

Now we saw one separate from the rest, come up the entry, and begin to act the "goose-guard," dodging backwards and forwards, throwing up his head, and looking from one side to another. Inside the entry, meanwhile, some obstruction seemed to take place, even adroit as Thomson was; but presently we were surprised as a vivid flash of exploded gunpowder illuminated the passage. Though unprepared for this, I understood it at once. Thomson had a way of his own with _sullen_ locks--placing a small parcel of powder into the key-hole, and pushing it home, so as to reach the wards, he exploded it with a match. The only thing I wondered at was the scarcely audible report--perhaps to be accounted for by the moderate charge, and the resistance of the guards which he intended to loosen. So long as they were in the entry, we could not move, even to undo the padlock and get the gate open and ready. Our moment was that of their entrance; and watching thus, with breathless anxiety, we saw that the door had been opened, by the disappearance of the shadows from the entry. Out we sallied. The "goose-guard," L----, is made secure in an instant. Two constables, placed one on each side of the front door. I and my assistant enter the close and get to the side door. Lo! it is locked. The gentlemen had wanted time, not only to rifle the box, but to enjoy themselves with ample potations from the whisky barrel; and no doubt their libations would have been rather costly to Mr Brown, as every minute besides would have been devoted to the abstraction of as many portables as they could carry away.

Finding the door barred, (for I think the lock must have been rendered useless,) we began to force it--a circumstance that really added to my satisfaction, as every wrench and thump must have gone home to the hearts of the intruders, now fairly caught in a novel man-trap. Nay, with the constables at the outer door, I didn't care what noise we made, provided we were not annoyed by curious neighbours; and then, to make the play more exciting, we heard them as busy with the front door trying to get _out_, as we were with the back one endeavouring to get _in_. Forced at length, and a rush in in the dark, the noise making the thieves desperate, so that their energies to force the front door might rather be termed fury. They succeeded, just as we were at their back; and in consequence of the door being in two halves, and one starting open while the constables' eyes were fixed on the other, Lang bolted, at the moment that Thomson was embraced by a powerful constable. Another constable was off immediately in pursuit of Lang; and such was my weakness, that when I saw Thomson struggling ineffectually in the grasp of the officer, one whom I had so often sighed for in secret, and eyed in openness, that I took him from the man with that kind of feeling that no person ought to have the honour of holding him but myself.

By this time Mr Brown was down among us in great consternation.

"Ah!" said he, "I see the reason now of your having told me to carry the society-box up-stairs."

"I fear that would have been nothing to your loss," replied I, "if we hadn't been as sharp as we have been. All's right."

Mr Brown's fears were appeased, and we then marched our gentlemen up to the Office, in which procession, so honoured by the presence of Hugh Thomson, I enjoyed one of my triumphs. Lang was sought for during weeks, but could not be found; and here I have to recount one of my wonders. One dark evening when I was acting the night-hawk out near the Gibbet Toll, I had gone considerably beyond that mark, and was returning. Dalkeith is a kind of harbour of refuge for the Edinburgh thieves when the city becomes too hot for them, and I had some hopes of an adventure on this road, otherwise I would not have been there at that hour, for it was late. The road to Portobello is also a hopeful place at times; but on that night I had some reasons, known only to myself, (and it was not often surmised where I was at any time,) for preferring the southern opening. Well, sauntering along I met a young fellow, but it was so dark that, at the distance of two or three yards, you could scarcely recognise anybody. I had a question ready, however, that suited all comers.

"Am I right for the city?" said I.

"Right in," was the reply.

And seeing the man wanted to be off, I darted a look at the side of his face. It was Lang's; and I suspected he had recognised _me_ before I did _him_, for he was off in an instant on the way to Dalkeith, and I must take to my heels in pursuit, or lose him. I immediately gave chase, and a noble one it was, though the night was as dark as pitch, and every step was through liquid mud.

Lang was a good runner, and had, I fancy, confidence that he would escape, and that which he had to escape from might very well grease the heels of even a lazy fellow. He ran for freedom, that dear treasure of even a thief's soul; and I ran to deprive him of it, a feeling as dear to a detective. The race became hot and hotter, and I could see only the dark outline of the flying desperado, and I heard the sound of his rapid steps as the voice of hope. By the side of the road one or two people stood, and seemed to wonder at the chase, but no one ventured to interfere. We had run a mile and a half with no abatement of the speed of either, so that we were about equal, and if this continued we might run to Dalkeith; but this issue was rendered improbable by the fact, quite well known to me, that a _pursued criminal_, with a clever officer after him, may almost always be caught by loss of breath. The impulse under which he flies is far more trying to the nerves than that which impels the officer to follow, and hence it is that criminals are so often what is called "run down." The same remark is applicable to a chase of animals. Fear eats up the energies, the lungs play violently, and exhaustion is the consequence. And so it was here. I gained as time sped, and at length I heard the grateful sound of the blowing lungs. He felt his weakness, and the old bravado getting up, he stopt all of a sudden, and waited for me.

"Why, man," said I, "you have just to walk back again; so what's the use?"

"No use," he replied, doggedly; "only if you hadn't caught me I would have been well on to Dalkeith."

Plunging my hands into his coat-pocket, I pulled out a bundle of picklocks.

"Not cured yet?" said I.

"No," replied he, "and never will. You have spoiled a good job at Dalkeith with your d----d dodging."

"Are you a member of a Dalkeith society, too, Lang?" I retorted, good-naturedly.

"Something better," said he; "I might have had £10 in my pocket before morning, if you hadn't come between me and my game."

We began our walk homewards. I didn't require to take hold of him. We had measured our powers, and he knew he had no more chance in flight than in personal conflict, and he walked quietly enough. I would put my handcuffs to use, however, at the Gibbet Toll, to provide against the dangers of alleys favourable to a bolt. I remember I tried him on the soft parts, in regard to the society-box, reminding him that he was robbing the widow and the fatherless.

"Humph! what have I to do with the widow and the fatherless? I am an orphan myself, and there is a difference besides, for your widow and fatherless have friends, because they have characters, and I don't know but they are better cared for than I, who have neither the one nor the other. I am bound to a trade, as that trade is bound to me, and I must live or die by it. So there's no use for your blarney about widows and orphans. All you have to do is to take me up, and get me condemned and imprisoned, and I will be the same man when I come out."

No doubt he would; and why should I have doubted, who scarcely, in all my experience, could hold out my finger and say, "There's a man whom I have mended, and he is grateful to me for having been hard with him?" No wonder I am weary of my efforts at penal reformation.

I believe the nine months' imprisonment awarded to these three desperate fellows only steeled them to dare the committal of crimes deserving transportation for as many years. How true it is, that the current of vice and criminality proceeds, both in its ebb and flow, on a "sliding scale."

The Miniature.

It is not often that I have had to deal with irregular criminals, by which I mean those that are not moulded and hardened in infancy and early youth, but who, from some inherent weakness of nature have, by the force of example, or the spur of unlawful gratifications, been precipitated--sometimes against the silent admonitions of their better genius--into a breach of the laws. I have said already that those whom Mr Moxey used to call "abnormals" are comparatively few, and it is not difficult to see how it should happen that their cases are the most painful exhibitions of misery that can be witnessed in this--to most, I fear--very miserable world. In the normals the heart is all in one way. Seldom is there any conscience stirring to produce the terrors of retribution; nay, the conscience is often completely reversed, so that the struggle of pain or anxiety, if it exists, is between the impulse of selfishness and the check imposed by the restraining laws. If a regular thief is sorry for anything, it is for being detected before he has enjoyed the fruit of his ingenuity or violence. There are only two powers in opposition--self, and the world. God is not feared, simply because He is never thought of; religion has no sanction, because it is not known. In the irregulars again, their heart is divided between God and the devil. Yes, that's my blunt way of putting it. And we may naturally look for some misery, I think, where the poor sensitive mind of the human creature is made the theatre of a contest between such powers.

In September 1850, Mr M----o, solicitor in Regent Terrace, had his bank account in the National Bank operated upon by a forged cheque to the extent of £195. So far as I remember, the forgery was not discovered at the time: nor did the startling intelligence come to him singly--at least it did not remain long single, for there was a crop of minor fabrications that started up like lesser evils round a great one. The forger, whoever he might be, had begun in a small way, as these abnormals generally do--boggling at the first step, then another as the terror waned and the confidence increased, then another and another, till primed for the great leap at length taken. The small cheque-books often kept by gentlemen in the names of their children with the Savings Bank, for the purpose of inducing habits of care and economy, were forged to the effect of abstracting such accumulations of the little daughters as £3 10s., and thereby--small sums and small sufferers--and then came the great feat on the great victim. How true a history of the progress of vice--the sliding scale of crime; fear leading passion to prey upon the weak and helpless, and passion throwing off fear, to rush headlong upon the strong!

At first there was a great obscurity as to the depredator. It was with a recoil that Mr M----o thought of his clerks, until suspicion began to be raised by the fact of the absence from the office of one of them, of the name of William L---- O----, who (as usual) seemed to be the very last on whom the mind of a confiding master could fix as the author of an act so treacherous, heartless, and cruel. The determination was at length come to, that he should be secured, and the charge of doing so was committed to me. I got my description, and how true it is that almost every case of the kind presents marks of personal aspect the very reverse of those we would expect; nay, I would say that, with the exception of a _side look_, expressive of fear, there is nothing about the face of a criminal that would imply either one thing or another as to the existence of tendencies towards even the _greater_ crimes. Hence the common expressions, "Who would have supposed it?" "He was so unlike it," and so forth; all perfectly true. I have seen a devil with the meek face of an infant not less often than I have witnessed the softness and smoothness of infancy overlying nerves of steel leading to powder-pouches of fury and revenge. So be it; but I would not give a very long or very decided squint for all your fanciful expressions of this devilry or t'other; and so in this case. I had enough of marks; but I soon learned that I was now, or later, sure of my man, for I ascertained that, like most other novices, he had taken to drink, to keep up his nerve and down his shame--a resource which throws a sought-for personage into my hands the quickest of any. He had changed his lodgings, and for a time I could only find traces of his fiery passage through taverns, as he flew, sometimes trembling with drink and horror, from one to another, seeking from a fiend, whose gift is delirium, that peace which can only be got from one who behind a rough providence hides a smiling face. His friends, who knew nothing of the charge against him, told me that he had gone with the quickness of a shot into this wild life, and that they considered him mad. I knew otherwise. I deemed that his disease was not remorse, though all such fits are placed to the account of that mysterious power; he was simply under the despair of terror, and as the impulse of fear is the quickest of all passions to take the wind out of a man, I had no doubt I would overtake him between the fiend's temple and the suicide's death-bed.

Nor was my expectation long delayed. The search among the lodgings was difficult; he must have changed in lucid intervals, for he cleared away so effectually all behind him, that no one could tell me where he now lived. But at length I discovered his retreat. Placing a couple of constables at the foot of the stair for fear of a window-drop, I ascended to his room, at the door of which I placed my assistant. It was not a case for premonition by knocking, so I opened the door, which was merely on the lock-catch, and behold my sporter of the little Savings-Bank portions! He was sitting at a table, with a glass and bottle before him; but I could mark from the state of the bottle that his potations at this time had only commenced; nor was I blind to the conviction that the drink-fever was still careering through his veins; the old signs so familiar to me--the trembling hands--the flush--the tumid swellings at the top of the cheeks--the hare-brained eye, with its lightnings of fear.

I doubt if he knew who I was, but he needed no personal knowledge of me to quicken an apprehension that responded, no doubt, to every movement, even to that of a mouse. The first look of me bound him to the easy-chair,--not made for terror-ridden criminals these rests,--to which he fixed himself by hands grasping the soft cushioned arms; his mouth gaped quite open, so that I could even see his parched tongue, as it quivered like a touched jelly-fish, and his eye shot like a fox's when the hounds rush on him with their yell. I am not exaggerating--I doubt if any one can in such a case; at least all language appears to fall far short in depicting the real state of a man in this young offender's position. Even the best describers in such cases are only botchers. We see only physical conditions,--mere palpable signs given in the flesh; nor know aught of the spirit, with its agonising recollections of home,--father, sisters, brothers,--hopes once entertained of a successful future to shed happiness upon them,--all blasted and destroyed, and the only contrast a jail and ignominy.

Yet amidst all this I had a calm part to play.

"You are Mr William L---- O----?"

"Yes."

"You were clerk to Mr M----o, of the Regent Terrace?"

As I uttered the words, I saw in an instant a change come over him, of a kind I have often noticed in people merely nervous from temperament and not drink. He clasped the arms of the chair more firmly, his trembling ceased as if in an instant, and his eye became steady. Yes, the energy of the instinct of self-preservation shot up through the drink-fever, confirmed his nerves, and prepared him for an onset. I have seen fear run into firmness like the congelations of a liquid metal; but such appearances, which I have learned to understand, never in any case shook my suspicions.

"Yes," replied he; "and what then?"

"Not much," said I, "in so far as I am interested, but something in so far as Mr M----o and his young daughters are concerned."

"I have left his employment, and do not intend to go back," was the answer, framed to avoid the main chance.

"I am not going to take you back to _your_ office, but rather to take you up to _ours_, with a view to get some explanation of certain forgeries on the National and Savings Banks, perpetrated by some one."

"Then _get_ that some one," said he, waxing firmer.

"I am just going to take him," replied I, a little nettled, and taking out my handcuffs.

The sight of these produced another effect, which may be said to be inconsistent with human nature. For my part, I don't know what human nature is, except just so far as I see it, and I never saw much consistency in it. The attempt to be firm, against the nervousness produced by his week's drunkenness, seemed to give way, as if suddenly let loose by the opening of some unseen aperture, and the effort to say something strong was changed into a kind of hysterical laugh--something like the cackle of a goose, and dying away into loud breathings. This was the mere going down of the barometer; it got up again on the courage side.

"I deny all knowledge of these forgeries," he cried.

"Well," said I, "it will only put us to a little trouble in proving it. In the meantime, accept the handcuffs."

To this I got no reply. He seemed to be struggling for stronger words of defiance, but they would not come at his bidding, and I heard nothing but a jabber, which expressed nothing but determination. I called in my assistant, and while he lay back in the chair we put on the cuffs--observing, as I have done before, the clenched hand, with the perspiration in the act of oozing out between the rigid fingers. Can any man imagine the fearful agony that could effect this, or the state of that conscience-riven and bursting heart?

Having raised him up, a little bit of romance introduced itself into this very prosaic affair, and, as it did not come out at the trial, was never known. He was standing by the side of a bureau, and suddenly he snatched with his left hand a _miniature_ (that indispensable appurtenance of the romance-wrights), and placed it in his breast.

"What is that?" said I.

"The portrait of my mother," he said, and the tear stood in his eye.

"Let me see it," said I, taking hold of it; and examining it, I found that he had told me what was false. It was the portrait of a young woman, not above twenty years of age, with long black ringlets--exceedingly beautiful, of course--they all are in the velvet-coated case; but as I am no despiser of a good face, I may admit she was really a fair creature,--ay, even as regards beauty, such a one as a man with more _love_ than _duty_ would even forge for.

"Why," said I, "this is the portrait of a young lady. Why did you tell me a lie?"

He paused for a moment. His heart got big, all his hardness had gone, and with a choking voice he said, "I don't want it to be known that she was connected with me, or ever saw me. So for God's sake give it me back."

I saw the impolicy of complying with this request, and put the miniature in my waistcoat pocket.

"No," said I, "you deny the forgery, and this face may lead me to a witness!"

"Never!" he cried, "she is too innocent to know aught of evil."

"Be it so," said I; "I will make no improper use of it, and whatever may happen, I promise to return it to you."

With this he seemed satisfied,--and we took him up to the Office, where he was locked up in a cell, with but little light, and where, I fear, in the dark hours he would see, in the magic lantern of a criminal's fancy, many more familiar faces than that of the mysterious original of the portrait. A mother's, at all events, would not fail to be illuminated there.

Somewhat troublesome as the apprehension of this unfortunate young man had been, it was far more easy than to procure the proper evidence to support an indictment. It turned out, to the annoyance of the authorities, who had no doubt of his guilt, that the imitation of the handwriting of Mr M----o was so skilfully executed, that the cheat was almost too much for the engravers. Forgery is, in this respect, a peculiar kind of crime. You may prove that the forger drew the money; but what then, if he was the person that ought to have drawn it for his master? Then, of whatever respectability the proprietor of the forged name, he is only a witness on his own behalf. Suppose the imitation _inimitable_, where are you? Yet it is to be confessed that so fine a case seldom happens, so that what I have said about the devil's limp is true here. It seems to be almost beyond the power of a human being to write the name of another in all respects so like that it cannot be detected, even although he has been in the practice of doing so several times a-day for years. But what is still more wonderful, as I've been told--for I am now speaking much from hearsay--it is even more difficult to imitate a rude and illiterate hand than a learned one; just as if Providence cared more for the poor, who cannot so well guard and protect themselves against such attempts.

The indictment was, however, prepared and served, and as the case was now more in the hands of the engravers, I had little to do with it; but I could not get quit of my portrait. There it was, still in my waistcoat pocket, just as if I had been some love-smitten swain, doing the romantic, notwithstanding my advanced years; so, thought I sometimes, if I had dropt down dead, or hung myself on a tree, or thrown myself over the Dean Bridge, as wiser men have done before me, what a story might have been founded on this miniature, and how appropriate for a woodcut stuck in front of my works! Doubtless some italic letters would have been in request by the printer:--"This great man hanged himself for love. The object of his affections was never known, and must remain a mysterious secret till that time when all things shall be revealed."