Part 48 (1/2)

'John Merridew, you have now the opportunity of stating your own case.'

He began in a trembling voice. He said that he had been long a sheriff's officer: that he had incurred great odium by his zeal in the arrest of criminals: that it was not true that he had concocted any plot either with Mr. Probus or with the other prisoners: that he was a man of consideration whose evidence had frequently been received with respect in that very court: that it was not true, further, as had been stated by the Prosecution, that he had ever encouraged thieves or advised them to become highwaymen: that, if he went to such places as the Black Jack, it was to arrest villains in the cause of Justice: that he deposed at the last trial, what he saw or thought he saw--namely a scuffle: he might have been in too great a hurry to conclude that the late prisoner Halliday was the a.s.saulting party: the night was dark: he only knew the two witnesses as two rogues whom he intended to bring to justice on a dozen capital charges for each, as soon as he was out of Newgate: and that he was a person--this he earnestly begged the Court to consider--without whom the criminal Courts would be empty and Justice would be rendered impossible. With more to the same effect, and all with such servile cringings and entreaties for special consideration as did him, I am convinced, more harm than good.

When it came to the Doctor's turn, he boldly declared that if the verdict of the Jury went against him--'And gentlemen,' he said, 'I must own that the evidence has certainly placed me in a strange, and unexpected and most painful position'--he would bring over the Archbishop of Dublin: the Dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral: and the Provost of Trinity College: besides n.o.blemen of the Irish Peerage and many of his old paris.h.i.+oners in order to prove that he was what he pretended to be. 'The a.s.surance, gentlemen, that I shall be thus supported, enables me to bear up even against your possible view of the case and his Lords.h.i.+p's possible opinion. To a Divine of unblemished life it is, I confess, inexpressibly painful to be confused with forgers and highwaymen.'

Lastly, the gallant Captain spoke of himself. 'This,' he said with a front of bra.s.s, 'is a case of most unfortunate resemblance. It appears that I bear some likeness to a certain notorious robber and highwayman called, it is said, the Captain.' Here the whole Court burst into laughter, so unabashed was the villain when he p.r.o.nounced these words.

He looked round him with affected wonder. 'The event of this trial, however,' he went on, 'matters but little because in two or three weeks I can bring to town the Mayor and Alderman, the Town Clerk, the Rector of the Church and the Master of the Grammar School of my native town to testify that I am what I have declared myself to be. This being so, gentlemen, you may proceed, if you please, to do your duty.'

The Judge then summed up. He went through the whole case, adopting the views of the Counsel for the Prosecution. He said that the evidence before him was practically unshaken. It showed that these men, who had pretended to know nothing of each other were in fact banded and allied together--in short he gave the whole weight of his opinion against the prisoners. Indeed, I cannot think what else he would do seeing the nature of the evidence. So he left the jury to find their verdict.

They found it, without leaving the box. It was a verdict of 'Guilty'

against all four prisoners. I looked to see the Judge a.s.sume the black cap. To my surprise, he did not. He began by commenting in the strongest terms on the diabolical wickedness of the conspiracy. He said that he could find no difference as to the respective guilt of one or the other. The prisoner Probus, a member of a learned profession, was the contriver or designer of the deed: perhaps he might be thought the worst. Indeed, his was a depth of infamy to which it was difficult to find a rival or an equal. He would be punished worse than the rest because he would infallibly lose by his disgrace his profession and his practice. The infamy of the prisoner Merridew, when one considered the hold that he had over a large number of criminals and rogues, was very close to that of the prisoner Probus. He had apparently forced the other two into carrying out the plot, on threat of informing against them. In short, he p.r.o.nounced the sentence of the court; namely, that the prisoners should stand in pillory for an hour and then be imprisoned for the s.p.a.ce of four years.

On hearing the sentence Mr. Merridew shrieked aloud. 'My Lord!' he cried. 'My Lord! Have mercy! They will murder me!'

They led him off crying that he was a murdered man. The Doctor swelled out his ca.s.sock. 'The Archbishop,' he said, 'will arrive, I believe, next week. There will still be time for his Grace to procure my release.' So rolling his head and squaring his sleeves, he followed along the pa.s.sage which leads to the Prison.

I left the Court and made my way through the crowd to the gates of Newgate in order to tell Jenny.

'Four years,' she said, 'will more than suffice to ruin the man Merridew. His companies of thieves will be broken up; he will no longer have any hold over them. He will have to turn rogue himself. When all has been said, this is the greatest villain of them all. I hope they will not maltreat the prisoners in pillory; because there they are defenceless. But a thief-taker--a thief-taker, they cannot abide. If I were Mr. Merridew I should wish the job well over.'

While we were discoursing there came a message from the Captain. Would Madame grant him the favour of speech with her?

He came in, walking with his heavy clanking irons. He had lost the braggart swagger which he a.s.sumed at the trial, and now looked as humble as any pickpocket about to undergo the discipline of the pump.

'Madame,' he said, 'I thank you for this favour.'

'Your trial is over, Captain, I hear.'

'It is over,' he sighed. 'Mr. Halliday, Sir, I hope you are satisfied.'

'I desire no revenge,' I said. 'I want safety and peace--nothing more.

These blessings you and your friends denied me.'

'It is quite true, Sir. It was a most d.a.m.nable plot. The only excuse for me is that I had no choice but to comply and obey, or be hanged.'

'Captain, I do not desire more of your company than is necessary. Will you tell me what you want of me?'

'The sentence is'--he made a wry face--'Pillory, Pillory, Madame. And four years' imprisonment. But the four years will pa.s.s--what I fear is Pillory.'

'I have heard of a man's friends protecting him.'

'Mine will do what they can. But, Madame, my fear is not so much on my own account as that I may be put up on the same scaffold with Mr.

Merridew or Mr. Probus. There isn't a rogue in London who will not come out with something for the thief-taker. Madame, no one knows the terror in which we poor robbers live. The world envies us our lot; they think it is glorious to ride out of a moonlight night and stop the coach all alone. They don't know that the thief-taker is always behind the highwayman. He lays his hand on the largest share of the swag; he encourages lads to take the roads, and whenever he wants money he says that the time is up and then he takes the reward. My time was up.'

'I know all this--unhappily--as well as you. What do you want me to do?'

'Mr. Probus--he will prove quite as unpopular as Merridew. They thirst for his blood. There will be murder done in the pillory. Madame, for the love of G.o.d, do something for me.'