THE PURSUIT
The reader need scarcely be told that albeit police-officers like other
men, chiefly delight to recount their _successful_ exploits, they do,
nevertheless, experience numerous and vexatious failures and
disappointments. One especially I remember, of which the irritating
recollection did not pass away for many weeks. I had been for some time
in pursuit of a rather eminent rascal, though one young in years, and by
marriage respectably connected, who, by an infamous abuse of the trust
reposed in him by the highly-respectable firm who employed him, had
contrived to possess himself of a large sum of money, with which, or at
least with the portion of it falling to his share--for we discovered
that he had been for some time connected with a gang of first-rate
swindlers--he hoped to escape to America. The chase was hot after him;
and spite of all his doublings and turnings, and the false scents
adroitly thrown out by his confederates with the view to favor his
escape, I at last fairly ran him to earth at Plymouth, though in what
precise spot of it he burrowed I could not for the moment ascertain.
Neither was I well acquainted with his features; but in the description
of his person furnished me there were certain indelible marks enumerated
which, upon strict examination, could not fail to determine his
identity. He purposed, I ascertained, to attempt leaving England in a
barque bound for New York, which was to sail from Plymouth on the day
after I arrived there. Of this I was fully satisfied, and I determined
to capture him on board. Accordingly, about half an hour before the ship
was to sail, and after all the passengers had embarked, two of the local
officers and I got into a boat which I had some time previously engaged
to be in readiness, and put off to the vessel. The wind was decidedly
fair for the emigrant ship; and so stiffly did it blow from the
north-east, that four hands, I was informed, were required, not indeed
to convey us swiftly out, but to pull the boat back against the wind,
and the strong tide which would be running outside the breakwater. The
sea dashed smartly at times over the boat, and the men pulled their
sou'-wester caps well over their eyes, to shield themselves from the
blinding spray. We were speedily on board; and the captain, although
much annoyed at the delay, paraded his motley passengers as well as crew
before us; but to my extreme surprise our bird was not amongst them!
Every possible and impossible hiding-place was thoroughly but vainly
searched; and we were at length compelled to a reluctant admission that
the gentleman we were in quest of, had not yet honored the captain of
the _Columbia_ with his patronage.
We sullenly returned into the boat; and the instant we did so, the
anchor, already atrip, was brought home; the ship's bows fell rapidly
off; her crowded canvass dilated and swelled in the spanking breeze, and
she sprang swiftly off upon her course. It was a pretty and somewhat
exciting spectacle; and I and my companions continued to watch the
smartly-handled vessel with much interest till a point of land hid her
from our view. We then turned our faces towards Plymouth, from which, I
was surprised to find, we were apparently as distant as ever. "The tide,
let alone the wind, is dead against us!" growled the master of the boat,
who was now pulling the near oar, in reply to a remark from one of the
Plymouth officers. This man had steered on going out. A quick suspicion
flashed across me. "Where is the other boatman who came out with us?" I
sharply demanded. The old seaman, instead of replying, turned himself
half round towards the weather-bow oar, exclaiming, "Easy, Billy--easy;
let her nose lay a little closer to the wind!" This, I readily saw, was
done to conceal a momentary confusion, arising from the suddenness of my
question--a very slight one by the by, for the fellow was an old
man-of-war's man, with a face hardened and bronzed by service, weather,
grog, and tobacco smoke. I repeated the question in a more peremptory
tone. The veteran first deliberately squirted a mouthful of tobacco
juice over the side, and then with an expression of his cast-iron phiz,
which it is impossible by words to convey a distinct idea of, so
compounded was it of diabolical squint, lamb-like simplicity, and
impudent cunning, replied, "That wor a passenger to Yankee Land--a goin'
there, I'm purty suspicious, for the benefit of his health." I looked at
the Plymouth officers, and they at me. The impudent ingenuity of the
trick that had been played us seemed scarcely credible.
"He--he--ho--ho!" rumbled out of the tobacco-stifled throat of the old
rogue, "If he wor somebody you wanted, it wor uncommon well done. Didn't
you obsarve him jump into the main chains of the barkey jist as you wor
leavin' on her, and cast us off a minute afterwards? He perfarred
stoppin' with us whilst you wor rummagin' the hooker--he--he--ho--ho!"
It was useless bandying words with the fellow; and though I felt
desperately savage, I had sense enough to hold my tongue. "Pull
smartly," said one of the Plymouth officers; "a shot will bring her too
yet."
"Why, ay," rejoined the imperturbable seaman; "it mout, if you could
get speech of the admiral in time; but I'm thinkin' we shall be a good
while yet pullin' in against this choppin' wind and head sea."
And sure enough they were! More than another hour, by some boatman-craft
unexplainable by me, for the sailors apparently rowed with all their
might, were we in reaching the landing-place; and by that time all
chance of compelling the return of the _Columbia_ was long past.
It would be, I knew, impossible to _prove_ complicity on the part of the
owner of the boat with the escaped felon, and I preferred to digest the
venom of my spleen in silence, rather than by a useless display of it to
add to the chuckling delight of the old rascal of a boatman.
We had passed some distance along the quay when one of the local
officers, addressing a youngish sailor, who, with folded arms and a
short pipe in his mouth was standing in philosophical contemplation of
the sea and weather, said, "I suppose there is no chance of the emigrant
ship that sailed a while ago putting in at any other port along the
coast?"
The man took the pipe from his mouth, regarded the questioner for a few
moments with an expression of contemptuous curiosity anything but
flattering to its object, and bawled out, addressing himself to a
weather-beaten seaman a few yards off, "I say, Tom Davis, here's a Blue
Bottle as wants to know the name and bearins of the port off the Land's
End which the barkey that sailed awhile agone for Ameriker with a
north-easter kicking her endways is likely to bring up in: I'm not
acquainted with it myself or else I'd tell the gentleman."
The laugh from two or three bystanders which followed this sally greatly
irritated the officer, and he would have indulged in an angry reply had
not his more prudent comrade taken him by the arm and urged him away.
"Ay, ay," said the veteran addressed as Tom Davis, as we were passing
him, "Jim there has always got plenty of jawing tackle aboard; but, Lord
love ye, he's a poor dumb cretur at understanding the signs of the
weather! He's talkin' about north-easters, and don't see that the wind's
beginning to chop about like a bumbo at womanwith a dozen customers
round her. It's my opinion, and Tom Davis ought by this time to be
summut of a judge, that, instead of a north-easter, it's a precious
sight more likely to be blowing a sou'-wester before two hours are past,
and a sneezer too; and then the _Columby_, if she ha'nt made a good
offin', which she is not likely to have done, will be back again in a
brace of shakes."
"Do you think it probable," I eagerly asked, "that the _Columbia_ will
be obliged to put back into Plymouth?"
"I don't know about _probable_. It's not so sure as death or
quarter-day, but it's upon the cards for all that."
"Will it be early in the night, think you, that she will run in, if at
all?"
"Ah! there now you wants to know too much;" said the old seaman turning
on his heel. "All I can say is, that if you find in an hour or so's time
that the wind has chopped round to the sou'-west, or within a p'int or
two, and that it's blowin' the buttons off your coat one after another,
the _Columby_, if she's lucky, wont be far off."
The half-bantering prediction of the old seaman was confirmed by others
whom we consulted, and measures for preventing our quarry from landing,
and again giving us the slip, were at once discussed and resolved upon.
We then separated, and I proceeded to the tavern at which I had put up
to get some dinner. I had not gone far when my eye fell upon two
persons whose presence there surprised as well as somewhat grieved me.
One was the young wife of the criminal on board the _Columbia_. I had
seen her once in London, and I knew, as before intimated, that she was
of respectable parentage. There was no exultation in her countenance.
She had no doubt followed or accompanied her husband to Plymouth for the
purpose of furthering his escape, and now feared that the capricious
elements would render all the ingenuity and boldness that had been
brought into play vain and profitless. She was a mild-looking, pretty
woman--very much so, I doubt not, till trouble fell upon her, and
wonderfully resembled the female in the "Momentous Question;" so
remarkably indeed, that when, years afterwards, I first saw that print,
I felt an instantaneous conviction that I had somewhere met with the
original of the portrait; and after much puzzlement of brain remembered
when and where. The resemblance was doubtless purely accidental; but it
was not the less extraordinary and complete. She was accompanied by a
gray-haired man of grave, respectable exterior, whom I at once concluded
to be her father. As I passed close by them, he appeared about to
address me, and I half-paused to hear what he had to say; but his
partly-formed purpose was not persisted in, and I proceeded on my way.
After dining, I returned to the quay. The wind, as foretold, was blowing
directly from the south-west; and during the short pace of time I had
been absent, had increased to a tempest. The wild sea was dashing with
terrific violence against the breakwater, discernible only in the
fast-darkening night by a line of white tumultuous foam and spray, which
leaped and hissed against and over it.
"A dirty night coming on," said a subaltern officer of the port whom I
had previously spoken with; "the _Columbia_ will, I think, be pretty
sure to run in with the tide."
"When do you say is the very earliest time she may be expected?"
"Well, in my opinion, judging from where she was when I was on the
look-out a quarter of an hour agone, not under three hours. Let me see.
It's now just upon the stroke of five about eight o'clock, I should say,
she will be here; certainly not before, perhaps much later; and if the
captain is very obstinate, and prefers incurring a rather serious risk
to returning, it may be of course not at all."
I thanked him, and as remaining on the bleak quay till eight o'clock or
thereabout was as useless as unpleasant, I retraced my steps towards the
Royal George Tavern; calling in my way on the Plymouth officers, and
arranging that one of them should relieve me at ten o'clock; it having
been previously agreed that we should keep an alternate watch during the
night of two hours each. I afterwards remembered that this arrangement
was repeated, in a tone of voice incautiously loud, at the bar of a
public-house, where they insisted upon my taking a glass of porter.
There were, I should say, more than a dozen persons present at the time.
The fire was blazing brightly in the parlor of the Royal George when I
entered, and I had not been seated near it many minutes before I became
exceedingly drowsy; and no wonder, for I had not been in bed the
previous night, and the blowing of the wind in my eyes for a couple of
hours had of course added greatly to their heavy weariness. Habit had
long enabled me to awake at any moment I had previously determined on,
so that I felt no anxiety as to oversleeping myself; and having pulled
out my watch, noticed that it was barely half-past five, wound it up,
and placed it before me on the table, I settled myself comfortably in
an arm-chair, and was soon sound asleep.
I awoke with a confused impression, not only that I had quite slept the
time I had allotted myself, but that strangers were in the room and
standing about me. I was mistaken in both particulars. There was no one
in the parlor but myself, and on glancing at the watch I saw that it was
but a quarter-past six. I rose from the chair, stirred the fire, took
two or three turns about the room, listened for a few minutes to the
howling wind and driving rain which shook and beat against the casement,
sat down again, and took up a newspaper which was lying on the table.
I had read for some time when the parlor door opened, and who should
walk in but the young wife and elderly gentleman whom I had seen in the
street. I at once concluded that they had sought me with reference to
the fugitive on board the _Columbia_; and the venerable old man's rather
elaborate apologies for intrusion over, and both of them seated on the
side of the fireplace opposite to me, I waited with grave curiosity to
hear what they might have to say.
An awkward silence ensued. The young woman's eyes, swollen with weeping,
were bent upon the floor, and her entire aspect and demeanor exhibited
extreme sorrow and dejection. I pitied her, so sad and gentle did she
look, from my very soul. The old man appeared anxious and careworn, and
for some time remained abstractedly gazing at the fire without speaking.
I had a mind to avoid a painful, and, I was satisfied, profitless
interview, by abruptly retiring; and was just rising for the purpose
when a fiercer tempest-blast than before, accompanied by the pattering
of heavy rain-drops against the window-panes, caused me to hesitate at
exposing myself unnecessarily to the rigor of such a night; and at the
same moment the gray-haired man suddenly raised his eyes and regarded me
with a fixed and grave scrutiny.
"This war of the elements," he at last said; "this wild uproar of
physical nature, is but a type, Mr. Waters, and a faint one, of the
convulsions, the antagonisms, the hurtful conflicts ever raging in the
moral world."
I bowed dubious assent to a proposition not apparently very pertinent to
the subject, which I supposed chiefly occupied his mind, and he
proceeded.
"It is difficult for dim-eyed beings such as we are always to trace the
guiding hand of the ever-watchful Power which conducts the complex
events of this changing, many-colored life to wise and foreseen issues.
The conflicts of faith with actual experience are hard for poor humanity
to bear, and still keep unimpaired the jewel beyond price of unwavering
trust in Him to whom the secrets of all hearts are known. Ah, sir!
guilt, flaunting its vanities in high places--innocence in danger of
fetters--are perplexing subjects to dwell upon!"
I was somewhat puzzled by this strange talk, but, hopeful that a meaning
would presently appear, I again silently intimated partial concurrence
in his general views.
"There is no longer much doubt, Mr. Waters, I believe," he after a few
moments added in a much more business-like and sensible tone, "that the
_Columbia_ will be forced back again, and that the husband of this
unhappy girl will consequently fall into the hands of the blind,
unreasoning law.... You appear surprised.... My name, I should have
mentioned, is Thompson; and be assured, Mr. Waters, that when the real
facts of this most unfortunate affair are brought to your knowledge, no
one will more bitterly regret than yourself that this tempest and
sudden change of wind should have flung back the prey both you and I
believed had escaped upon these fatal shores."
"From your name I presume you to be the father of this young woman,
and"----
"Yes," he interrupted; "and the father-in-law of the innocent man you
have hunted down with such untiring activity and zeal. But I blame you
not," he added, checking himself--"I blame you not. You have only done
what you held to be your duty. But the ways of Providence are indeed
inscrutable!"
A passionate burst of grief from the pale, weeping wife testified that,
whatever might be the fugitive husband's offences or crimes against
society, he at least retained _her_ affection and esteem.
"It is very unpleasant," I observed, "to discuss such a subject in the
presence of relatives of the inculpated person, especially as I as yet
perceive no useful result likely to arise from it; still, since you as
it were force me to speak, you must permit me to say, that it appears to
me you are either grossly deceived yourself, or attempting for some
purpose or other to impose upon my credulity."
"Neither, sir--neither," replied Mr. Thompson with warmth. "I certainly
am not deceived myself, and I should hope that my character, which I
doubt not is well known to you, will shield me from any suspicion of a
desire to deceive others."
"I am quite aware, Mr. Thompson, of your personal respectability; still
you may be unwittingly led astray. I very much regret to say, that the
evidence against your daughter's husband is overwhelming, and I fear
unanswerable."
"The best, kindest of husbands!" broke in the sobbing wife; "the most
injured, the most persecuted of men!"
"It is useless," said I, rising and seizing my hat, "to prolong this
conversation. If he be innocent, he will no doubt be acquitted; but as
it is now close upon half-past seven o'clock, I must beg to take my
leave."
"One moment, sir," said Mr. Thompson hastily. "To be frank with you, it
was entirely for the purpose of asking your advice as an experienced
person that we are here. You have heard of this young man's father?"
"Joel Masters?--Yes. A gambler, and otherwise disreputable person, and
one of the most specious rascals, I am told, under the sun."
"You have correctly described him. You are not perhaps acquainted with
his handwriting?"
"Yes, I am; partially so at least. I have a note in my pocket--here it
is--addressed to me by the artful old scoundrel for the purpose of
luring me from the right track after his son."
"Then, Mr. Waters, please to read this letter from him, dated Liverpool,
where it appears he was yesterday to embark for America."
The letter Mr. Thompson placed in my hands startled me not a little. It
was a circumstantial confession addressed by Joel Masters to his son,
setting forth that he, the father, was alone guilty of the offence with
which his unfortunate son was charged, and authorizing him to make a
full disclosure should he fail in making his escape from the country.
This was, I thought, an exceedingly cheap kind of generosity on the part
of honest Joel, now that he had secured himself by flight from the
penalties of justice. The letter went on to state where a large amount
of bank-notes and acceptances, which the writer had been unable to
change or discount, would be found.
"This letter," said I, "is a very important one; but where is the
envelop?"
Mr. Thompson searched his pocket-book: it was not there. "I must have
dropped it," he exclaimed, "at my lodgings. Pray wait till I return. I
am extremely anxious to convince you of this unfortunate young man's
innocence. I will not be more than a few minutes absent." He then
hurried out.
I looked at my watch: it wanted five-and-twenty minutes to eight. "I
have but a very few minutes to spare," I observed to the still
passionately grieving wife; "and as to the letter, you had better place
it in the hands of the attorney for the defence."
"Ah, sir," sobbed the wife, raising her timid eyes towards me, "you do
not believe us or you would not be so eager to seize my husband."
"Pardon me," I replied, "I have no right to doubt the truth of what you
have told me; but my duty is a plain one, and must be performed."
"Tell me frankly, honestly," cried the half-frantic woman with a renewed
burst of tears, "if, in your opinion, this evidence will save my
unhappy, deeply-injured husband? My father, I fear, deceives
me--deceives himself with a vain hope."
I hesitated to express a very favorable opinion of the effect of a
statement, obnoxious, as a few moments' reflection suggested, to so much
suspicion. The wife quickly interpreted the meaning of my silence, and
broke at once into a flood of hysterical lamentation. It was with the
greatest difficulty I kept life in her by copious showers of water from
the decanter that stood on the table. This endured some time. At last I
said abruptly, for my watch admonished me that full ten minutes had been
passed in this way, that I must summon the waiter and leave her.
"Go--go," said she, suddenly rallying, "since it must be so. I--I will
follow."
I immediately left the house, hastened to the quay, and, on arriving
there, strained my eyes seaward in search of the expected ship. A large
bark, which very much resembled her, was, to my dismay, riding at anchor
within the breakwater, her sails furled, and everything made snug for
the night. I ran to the landing-steps, near which two or three sailors
were standing.
"What vessel is that?" I asked, pointing to the one which had excited my
alarm.
"_The Columbia_," replied the man.
"_The Columbia!_ Why, when did she arrive?"
"Some time ago. The clock chimed a quarter-past eight as the captain and
a few of the passengers came on shore."
"A quarter-past eight! Why, it wants nearly half an hour to that now!"
"Does it though? Before you are ten minutes older you'll hear the clock
strike nine!"
The man's words were followed by a merry mocking laugh close to my
elbow: I turned sharply round, and for the first and last time in my
life felt an almost irresistible temptation to strike a woman. There
stood the meek, dove-eyed, grief-stricken wife I had parted from but a
few minutes before, gazing with brazen impudence in my face.
"Perhaps, Mr. Waters," said she with another taunting laugh, "perhaps
yours is London time; or, which is probably more likely, watches
sometimes sleep for an hour or so as well as their owners." She then
skipped gaily off.
"Are you a Mr. Waters?" said a custom-house official who was parading
the quay.
"Yes--and what then?"
"Only that a Mr. Joel Masters desired me to say that he was very much
grieved he could not return to finish the evening with you, as he and
his son were unfortunately obliged to leave Plymouth immediately."
It would have been a real pleasure to have flung the speaker over the
quay. By a great effort I denied myself the tempting luxury, and walked
away in a fever of rage. Neither Joel Masters nor his son could
afterwards be found, spite of the unremitting efforts of myself and
others, continued through several weeks. They both ultimately escaped to
America; and some years afterwards I learned through an unexpected
channel that the canting, specious old rascal was at length getting his
deserts in the establishment of Sing-Sing. The son, the same informant
assured me, had, through the persuasions and influence of his wife, who
probably thought justice might not be so pleasantly eluded another time,
turned over a new leaf, and was leading an honest and prosperous life at
Cincinnati.