Kitabı oku: «Christmas Penny Readings: Original Sketches for the Season», sayfa 15
Chapter Twenty Three
King Boreas
Away with a shout and a shriek from the North,
The host of the Storm King in rage hurries forth;
With the monarch to lead them away o’er the main,
Sweep with whistle and wild shriek the winterly train.
O’er the sea, o’er the waves that spring tossing in wrath,
To fly after the host in a storm of white froth,
Till they dash in their anger on sand-hill and rock,
Or make some ship shiver, and groan with their shock.
Away rush the train with a howl ’mid each cloud,
That no longer moon-silvered floats massive and proud;
But torn by the Storm King, and rent by his crew,
Wild and ragged scuds onward in murkiest hue.
’Mid the rocks, through the caves that o’er ocean’s waves scowl,
Away speeds the King, and his followers howl
As they toss the dark sea-weed, and tear up the sand,
Which flies frightened in drifts at the touch of their hand.
And away, and away, where the forest trees wave,
Where the willow and silver birch drooping boughs lave
In the silver-like stream, in the mossy green vale,
That ere yet the storm cometh breaks forth in a wail.
Now crashing ’mid beech-tops, now rending the oak,
Then laying the larch low with mightiest stroke;
While through the frail willow the storm spirits tear,
And the boughs stream aloft like a maniac’s hair.
Rejoicing and shrieking anew at each feat,
Away o’er the moorlands, away sharp and fleet;
By the cotter’s low hovel, the steep-cresting mill,
To the town by the hill-slope, as yet calm and still.
Bursting now o’er the roofs with a brain-piercing yell,
Round the old abbey towers they mock at each bell
As the past hour’s chimed, when they sweep off the tone,
And away o’er the woodlands the summons has flown.
Again with a shriek, and again with a cry,
The King and his crew keep their revel on high;
They bear the cold snow-drift aloft in their train,
The sleet-darting arrow, and icy North chain.
They bind up the streamlet, they fetter the lake,
The huge rocky mountain they shivering break;
They rage through the forest, they strew the sea-shore,
While the echoing hill-sides resound with their roar.
King Boreas passes, his revel is o’er,
But the waves still in anger toss down by the shore;
The trees lie half broken and torn by the gale,
While the streamlets are fettered and bound in the vale.
Chapter Twenty Four
A Lady in the Case
Well, no, sir, I can’t complain, I’ve risen well in the force, and I’m very well satisfied with my position, but then there’s a great deal of responsibility attached to one’s office, and, I can assure you, police inspectors have something else to do besides sitting still and growing fat. Many a smart young fellow would rise and get to be sergeant, inspector, or super in his turn, but for some little failings that creep out – I have my failings, too, of course, but still somehow I’ve crept up till here I am on the shady side of fifty and busy as ever.
Now you want me to give you an anecdote to put into print, that’s what you want, eh? Well, of course it was easy enough to tell that, and I don’t mind obliging you, for, as you very reasonably say, truth is stranger than fiction. But that disposition to tattle or talk about their business has been the ruin of more than one promising young officer. Now just think for a moment and suppose us to be always ready to talk of the cases we had in hand, where should we be? Marked men would slip us, planned jobs would be stopped, and many a gaol bird, whose tail we want to salt, would be off and escape. Ah, thirty years in the force have shown me some strange sights, and laid bare some curious tricks, all planned for the purpose of getting hold of somebody’s money. I’ve seen and had to do with robbery, and murder, and garrotting, and burking, and suicide, and swindling, and embezzlement, and every kind of felony or larceny you can find a name for.
You know, our part is decidedly, I think, more lively than the city, for with the exception of a good bold robbery now and then at a bank or big gentleman’s, there’s seldom anything much there, while in our part we’re always busy. For somehow or another there’s always so many really clever rascals laying their heads together and making schemes, and then you have something new coming out all at once, like a clap of thunder over the town, and people are very much disgusted because the police have not bad more foresight, when all the while it’s like a game of chess, and though we who play with the white pieces can to a certain extent see through the manoeuvres of black, yet we cannot see through everything as a matter of course.
Now I’m going to tell you of a little affair that happened one Christmas-night about twenty years ago, when I was only number so and so. It was a bright, clear, frosty night; no moon, but plenty of snow had fallen, quite late in the evening, so that the streets were regularly muffled; and in spite of feeling a bit ill-tempered at having to be on duty while other people were enjoying themselves, I could not help thinking of what a seasonable night it was, and how jovial and pleasant every place seemed to look. There were the bright lights and glowing fires, shining ruddy and warm through the drawn curtains; music and laughing might be heard every here and there, and more than once I stopped to hear a sweet voice singing, and felt envious like of the comforts other people enjoyed. Everywhere there seemed jollity and festivity, but in the midst of my growling I could not help recollecting that my beat that night was all in the better part, while down in the slums there was plenty of misery, enough to make even a policeman’s heart sore.
Well, I felt better then, and I went on quietly through the deep snow, now making a little noise where it was a bit trampled, and now stealing along as quietly as could be. Once I caught myself humming a bit of a song I had just heard some one singing, then I whistled a bit, and still I kept on, buttoned up and gloved, thinking how pleasant it would have been spending Christmas at some jolly farm-house in the country, far away from the noise and worry of London.
All at once I came upon a merry party of some half-dozen ladies and gentlemen, just going in at a large house, when one of the gentlemen stopped and gave me quite a cheerer.
“How long are you on for, my man?” he says.
“Six o’clock to-morrow morning, sir.”
“Hum; long hours on a bitter night like this. Bring a glass, John.”
And then I heard him rattle his keys as he says, “stop a minute,” and directly after he came back into the large, handsome hall with a decanter in his hand, while just about the same time the servant brought a wine glass on a little silver tray.
“There, my man,” says the jolly-looking old gentleman, filling me up a glass of wine. “You take care of us, so it’s only fair that we should take care of you. Thank you, my man, I hope I may have good health. There tip it down and have another glass. That’s twenty port, that is, and a couple of glasses of that won’t hurt you. Here, take hold of this lump of cake.”
I didn’t know anything then about twenty port, but I thought I should like twenty glasses of the rich red wine, which trickled down your throat like molten sunshine, and made you feel as if it was a jolly thing to be out on a cold Christmas-night; so I drank my second glass, wishing the pleasant, smiling old chap a merry Christmas, and then next minute, feeling like a new man, I was slowly tramping down the long street.
As I told you, in places I went along as quiet as a mouse, when I suppose it was about one o’clock that, in the middle of one street, I came all at once upon a tall, well-dressed young fellow inside some area railings, same as you may have seen, sometimes, where, beside the rails, the top of the area is all covered with iron bars, which make it like the top of a cage; while, as a matter of course, you can walk up to the dining-room windows.
Well, that’s what this young fellow had done; and, as I went quietly up, there he was, close up, resting one foot on a ledge of the stucco, while one hand was on the sill of the open parlour window.
“Hallo!” I said quietly, for I had taken my gentleman quite by surprise; and I felt very good-tempered and comfortable from the effects of those two glasses of sunshine; so “Hallo!” I said, “what is it?” knowing all the while that I must have my gentleman, for he was regularly caged, and looking at me through the bars.
“Hush!” he said, not in the least taken aback; “Hush! hold your tongue: there’s a lady in the case. Here, catch hold, and be off, there’s a good fellow;” and then he gave me half-a-crown.
Now, seeing that it was light enough for me to make out that he was a well-dressed, smart-looking young chap, I took the half-crown, and as it didn’t seem to be part of my work to interfere with a bit of billing and cooing, I went on, leaving my friend whispering to some one inside.
“All right, my fine fellow,” I said to myself, turning it over in my mind; “All right, but I don’t mean to be done if there’s anything else on the way.” So I went slowly on, and turned the corner; and then, knowing that my steps couldn’t be heard, I slipped into a doorway, and made myself as small as I could.
Well, I hadn’t been there a minute before I fancied I heard a sound like somebody sneezing, and trying to smother it down; and then my heart beat a little heavier, for I knew there was something more than a lady in the case; while, as I stood squeezed up there, I could make out my friend coming along by the shadow sent forward by the gas-lamp just round the corner. At last, very slowly he peeped round to look along the street where I was, but he could make nothing out, for I kept very snug in my doorway; though, if he had only come down half-a-dozen yards, he must have seen me, for there was a light burning over the door.
But the very openness of the place concealed me, and I breathed easier again as I made out by the shadow that he was going back.
“My turn now,” I said; and then, going down on hands and knees, I crawled quietly and quickly over the snow, and had my peep round the corner after him, when there he was, slipping along as fast as he could go. “Stop a minute, my boy,” I said, and then I runs as hard as I could down two streets to where I knew I must meet our sergeant and another man; for, you see, we all have our points to cross one another at certain times of the night, so that one man acts as a check on another; and the sergeant soon knows that, if a man’s not at his place, there’s either something wrong or the constable’s neglecting his duty.
Just as I thought, there were the sergeant and the man, and the next minute we were going over my ground again, so as to pass along the street and come up to the open window, as I did at first. They were close behind me when I reached the street, and down on my knees I went again, held my hat behind me, crept to the end of the railings, and peeped like a boy playing “whoop.”
“All right,” I whispered back to the sergeant, for there was my friend at the other corner down on his hands and knees peeping round too, and watching for me to come back again.
Well, we sent our man back through the mews behind the houses to try and catch the watcher, while the sergeant and I crawled very quietly along close to the railings towards the open-windowed house, and next moment we were safe in the doorway, when I saw a head pop back from the open window as we came up; and so did the sergeant – by the way he nipped my arm. But there, we waited quiet and still for our other man to do his work and take number one, as I’ll call the generous half-crown gentleman, when we meant to take proceedings against the one or two inside.
About five minutes slipped away very slowly when the sergeant whispered, “He’s a very long time!” But the words were hardly out of his mouth before we heard some one coming down the street as hard as he could run, with another in full chase. So we let the first come on without our showing ourselves, when, as he came near the open window, he gave a low, peculiar whistle – one which was replied to from inside by a sort of warning chirrup. But, if meant for a warning, it was of no use, for, stooping in the shadow of the railings, we darted out just at the right moment, tripped my amorous friend up; and, though he tried to jump clear, it was of no use, for down he went, over and over in the snow, our other man a-top of him, and then we had the “darbies” on him in a moment.
“I hope we shan’t alarm that lady that’s in the case,” I said to my friend, as we hauled him up into the doorway; and then with another pair of bracelets we fastened him tight to the scraper, where he was quite safe till we liked to take him off.
“Hum,” said the sergeant; then, looking at me and chuckling, as he stood brushing the snow off the knees of his trousers; “Hum, that’s the cock bird, Jones, but I’m afraid the hen will prove rather tough.”
“Yes,” I says, “and I’m afraid there’ll be one or two awkward chicks as well.”
The next thing the sergeant did was to ring well at the door after sending another man, who now came up, round to the mews at the back to be on the look-out for escaping in that direction; and then, as he climbed over the railings to get at the parlour window, we heard a most tremendous screaming.
“Come now, there is a lady in the case after all,” said the sergeant; and then, telling our other man to mind the prisoner, he made ready to get in at the window, where all looked very uncomfortably dark and treacherous.
“Shall I go first?” I said, all in a fidget at the same time lest he should say “Yes,” for I don’t mind owning that it looked uncommonly like putting one’s head in a trap to go in at that window; and I felt a bit nervous, if not frightened.
The next moment I was over the railings too; and, holding my bull’s-eye so as to throw all the light into the room I could, when in went the sergeant, and directly after, almost before you could say “Jack Robinson,” there was a bit of a scuffle and the sound of a heavy blow, and some one went down with a crash; while, as I leaned forward and held in my light, I just caught a glimpse of some one, and at the same moment a heavy, numbing blow came down on my hand, and the lanthorn was knocked out, and fell with a clang under my feet in the area, while the silence which followed showed me plainly enough that it was not the lady in the case who had been knocked down, but the sergeant.
“Now, my lad,” I said to the other policeman, as I stood rubbing and shaking my hand, “one of us must go in; sergeant’s down, safe.”
“Well,” he said, “you’ve been longest in the force, you’d best go.”
“Wrong,” I said; “you were in before me.”
“Well, but,” he said, “I’m a married man, and you ain’t.”
“Wrong again,” I said; “I’m married, and have two little ones.”
Well, perhaps, you’ll say it was cowardly not to have dashed in at once to help the sergeant. Perhaps it was; but, mind you, all this didn’t take many seconds, as we whispered together; and, besides, I knew well enough that I should be taken at a disadvantage; for, though I couldn’t see him, I was sure enough that there was a fellow armed with a life-preserver or a poker just behind the large window-curtain, so I wanted to plan a bit. And, mind you, I didn’t want to go; but, as my fellow-constable did not seem disposed, and I stood close to the window, there was nothing for it, but to take off my great coat and jump in. So I drew out my staff, when my fingers were so numbed that I could hardly hold it; and then I said to myself, “Now for it, my boy;” when, making plenty of noise, I tried a very stale old trick – one that I didn’t for a moment expect would take; and I tell you what I did. I got my fellow-constable’s bull’s-eye, opened it, and set it on the window-sill, so that the light was shining into the room, and then in went one leg, and I made believe to be jumping in with a rush; but, instead of doing so, I pushed in my hat as far as I could reach on the end of my staff, when “bang, crash,” down came something right on the hat, beating my staff out of my hand, and making my fingers tingle again, it came so hard.
That was my time, though, and I leaped in so quickly that, before there was time for another cut, I had tight hold of somebody, and there I was engaged in the fiercest struggle I ever had. There were the chairs knocking here, there, and everywhere, while I could feel somebody’s hot breath against my neck as, locked together, we swayed backwards and forwards. Once I was forced right back upon the dining-room table, but I sprang up again, and the next moment, whoever it was I struggled with had his head through the glass; while, as to the darkness, it was something fearful, for the lanthorn was knocked over, and only shone just in one corner by the floor. Jangle went a piano once as I was forced back on to it, and then the noise grew louder, for I could hear above the wild beast, worrying noise we made, the people upstairs screaming worse than ever.
“Well, there must be help come soon,” I thought, as now down, now up, we struggled on. I wanted to shout to my fellow-constable to come in, as he was not wanted outside, but I suppose he did not like the job of getting in, for he did not attempt to come, while as to calling him, I could just as soon have flown, for my adversary seemed quite satisfied with my company, and held on by my throat so tightly, that I was almost choked.
All at once, for about the sixth time, I tumbled over the sergeant, and this time down I went undermost, while my head came against one of those tin-plate warmers, and made the most outrageous noise you ever heard in your life. Well, this rather shook the sense out of me, tin being rather a hard metal to catch your head against – so hard, that it seemed to me to quite strike fire, and then taking advantage of my being a little beaten down, this fellow got his hand inside my stock, when what with the blow and the pressure of his knuckles in my throat, lights began to dance before my eyes, and I felt about done. However, it seemed to me to be now not a struggle for capture or escape, but for life and death, and in the last despair of the moment, I got hold of the fellow’s hand between my teeth, and hung on like a bull terrier.
How long this lasted I can’t say; but I remember hearing a crash, and seeing the flashed light of a bull’s-eye, when my lord rolled off me, and then through a sort of mist I could just see the sergeant’s face looking all bloody, while directly after the light of the lanthorn was thrown two or three times upon my face.
“How are you, my lad?” said the sergeant.
But I didn’t tell him, for the simple reason that I could not just then, but lay as still as could be, feeling afraid of tumbling, for the room appeared to be spinning round as fast as possible.
“How are you, my lad?” said the sergeant again directly after, but this time a little way off, and then I heard the “click, click” of the handcuffs, as he made them fast round my dear friend’s wrists.
But I did not answer then; for though the room had left off spinning so hard, my tongue seemed to have turned sulky, and would not speak, though it was not my fault a bit. One feeling, however, did seem to come upon me now strong, and that was that I should like to have a look at the man on the floor, though not an inch could I move right or left.
Well, seeing that I could not answer, the sergeant called in the outside man, and then after a look round the room, he went and opened the dining-room door, and called out: —
“Come down, and bring a light. We are the police.”
But before he had well said the words, there came a bang like thunder, and I could hear shot go rattling down the passage.
“Here, I say! confound you; what are you doing?” shouted the sergeant. “Don’t you hear? We’re the police.” When, bad as I was, I could not help laughing to see the way our poor sergeant jumped. Though certainly it was enough to make him, you’ll say.
After a few minutes a miserable looking old gentleman, in a dressing gown, came shivering down with one of those great brass blunderbusses in one hand, and a candlestick in the other.
“Keep back,” the old gentleman cried; “it’s loaded again.”
“Then the sooner you uncock it the better,” said our sergeant; “or else, perhaps, you’ll be making another mistake. But now, if you’ll go with me, we will just let the other man in,” and then he went and shut down the window, and drew the curtains across.
But the old gentleman seemed so scared, that he could hardly tell friends from enemies, and he did not appear to like the idea of the front door being opened, for nearly all the sense seemed frightened out of him. However, he followed the sergeant, and they unlocked the door, let down the chain, and slipped back the bolts, and then after unlocking the darby, they lugged in my friend who said there was a lady in the case, brought him into the dining-room, and set him in an easy-chair in the corner. The sergeant then set light to a pair of candles on the chimney-piece, when I could see all that went on, for I could neither move nor speak yet.
“Slip round to the station for more help, and the stretcher,” said the sergeant; and my fellow-constable went, though the old gentleman didn’t seem to like it, and asked if it was safe to be left with the two burglars.
Then the sergeant came and stooped over me again, and asked me how I was; but all I could do was to look hard in his face, and wink both my eyes.
Just then he asked the old gentleman if he had a drop of brandy in the house, when a decanter was brought out, and a glass held to my lips, and a few drops seemed to revive me so, that I was able to sit up, when the sergeant and the old gentleman between them got me upon a sofa, where I lay quite still and felt better.
“Dear me, dear me,” said the old gentleman: “I don’t like my house being turned into a hospital.”
“P’raps not,” said the sergeant; “but if it hadn’t been for that poor fellow, you might have looked queer.”
Hearing the old fellow grumble seemed to rouse me, and I still went on listening.
“It’s been a stiff fight, sir,” said the sergeant; “and that young fellow – ”
“And you, sergeant,” I said feebly.
“Oh, come; that’s cheering,” said he with a pleasant look, which went right over his shining face.
You can’t tell how pleased I felt to be able to use my tongue once more, but there was no work in me, and there I lay watching the sergeant give a look at the two prisoners, and examine the handcuffs to see that all was right, when all at once the fellow I had such a struggle with, sprang up and fetched the sergeant the most savage of kicks in the knee – one which sent him staggering back – when, in spite of all that has been said about the police using their staves, I’m sure no one could have blamed that sergeant for bringing his staff down on the fellow’s head, and striking him to the ground, where, as he lay, I had a good look at him.
And a nice specimen of humanity he looked – a great six-foot fellow, strong as a horse, while my impression is that, if the sergeant had not come so opportunely to my aid, you would not have heard this story. But the fellow was tolerably knocked about. Ah! and so was the sergeant, while, no doubt, I should have been stunned at first if the chap had not been taken in by my shallow trick.
A nice little affair that was, and I saw that I had only just got up in time, for there were two carpet-bags on the floor crammed full of plate – silver dishes and tea and coffee pots, while all the small parts were filled out with forks and spoons.
All at once the old gentleman, who had been shivering about as far off the burglars as he could, seemed to catch sight of my half-crown gentleman’s face – a face that he had not appeared so far to be very proud of, for he had kept it hung down over his waistcoat the greater part of the time – when all at once the old gentleman stood still and exclaimed: —
“Why, you scoundrel, it’s you, is it?” and the fellow only shrunk down more of a heap, while the old gentleman was so enraged, that he made believe to shoot the rascal with his blunderbuss, when the sergeant made no more ado, but went and took it away from him.
“Come, you know,” said the sergeant; “I see you won’t be happy till you’ve done some one a mischief with that pretty little plaything. Oh, he was your footman, was he, and you discharged him for drunkenness, did you, a month ago? Well, I’m not surprised a bit.”
Just then three of our men came in, and they walked off our two gaol-birds at once, and then I got hold of the sergeant’s arm, and found I could walk.
“Take a little more brandy,” said the old gentleman, and he poured out with a shaking hand about half a wine-glassful, when after I had drunk it he said again:
“You’re a brave fellow, and there’s something to drink my health with.”
I thanked him, and then we two walked out together, and stood on the pavement amongst the snow, listening to the old gentleman and the servants locking and bolting the door after us.
“Well,” said the sergeant; “I think, my lad, we’ve done our night’s work, and after reporting at the station, we’ll go off duty for a day or two; for my head is in a queer state,” and then he lifted his hat, pressed his hand upon it, and looked at the blood-smeared palm under the lamp. “But what did the old fellow give you?”
I opened my hand and looked, for I had not cared to look before; in fact, I was so stupid then, and dizzy, that I felt no interest in the money.
“Just what I expected,” exclaimed the sergeant; “Sixpence! Well, some men have consciences.”
It was a week before the sergeant was pronounced fit for duty, but it took me a fortnight to get right; while our friends had fourteen years each. I’ve often thought of the way I spent that Christmas-night – the roughest I ever did pass; but then you see, there was a Lady in the Case.
