A small knot of policemen stood outside Q--Police-Court. They chatted
and talked one to another, now and then alluding to the different cases
to be tried that day, now and then dwelling on the ordinary topics of
the times, now and then, too, speaking to a companion of home interests,
and home, and personal hopes and fears.
For these stalwart-looking myrmidons of the law are just human beings
like the rest of mankind, and they are quite capable now and then even
of feeling and showing pity for a prisoner.
"Any cases of interest coming on to-day?" asked a young policeman of
constable 21 B.
"Nothing of moment--a few thefts committed on the Derby Day. By the
way, I have just brought in the drollest figure of a child to appear as
witness in one of these cases."
Just then a little woman in a black dress, black, tight-fitting bonnet,
and black veil, came up timidly to the constable and asked if she might
see the trials.
"Certainly, missis; you have nothing to do but to walk in. Stay, I will
show you the way to the court. May I ask if there is hany particular
case as you is wanting to hear?"
"Not--not--that is, I am not a witness," replied the little woman, whose
lips trembled. "I have a curiosity to see the proceedings."
"Well, ma'am, the affairs coming on are mostly hacts of robbery
committed on the Derby day--but some of them may interest you. Walk
this way, ma'am," and the constable preceded the little woman into the
court.
"There," he said kindly, seeing that for some reason she appeared a good
deal either upset or excited, "you need not stand where the crowd are,
you may go up and seat yourself on that bench where the witnesses be.
You'll be more quiet and comfortable hup there, and will see
heverything."
"Thank you," replied the little woman, and she placed herself on the
extreme edge of the witnesses' bench.
There was a case then on hand, one of those sad cases which
police-courts see so many of. A woman had been brought up to be tried
for that sin which, more than any other, blights homes, ruins children,
spreads destruction through the land, sends souls to hell,--she was
accused of drunkenness and disorderly conduct.
She stood in the prisoner's dock with a sullen, bleared, indifferent
face, her half-dead, listless eyes gazing vacantly at the magistrate.
She had appeared in that court charged with the same offence forty
times.
Mr Vernon, the gentleman before whom she was accused, asked her what
she had to say for herself. Even at this question the indifferent
countenance never woke into life.
"Nothing," she answered listlessly, for the love of strong drink had
killed all other love in that woman's breast. She hardly listened as
Mr Vernon addressed her in a few solemn but kindly words, and when her
sentence--a month at Wandsworth with hard labour--was pronounced,
received it with the same stoical indifference.
Then two boys were led in by the jailor, and constable 21 B. appeared as
the first witness against them. As he passed into his place in the
witnesses' box he gave the little woman in black a nudge and an
intelligent look, which would have told her, even if she had not known
it before, that one of the Derby robbery cases had come on. Through her
thick veil she looked at the two lads; one hung down his face, but the
other gazed about him, apparently untroubled and unashamed. This
hardened expression on the elder boy's face seemed to cause her much
pain, she turned her head away, and some tears fell on her hands. And
yet, could she but have seen into their hearts, she would have perceived
something which would have kindled a little hope in her soul.
Each boy, standing in this dreadful position, thought of his mother.
Dick, with that sea of faces about him, with the eyes of the judge fixed
on him, felt that the memory of his mother was the hardest thing of all
to bear, for the conscience of the child who had stood out against
temptation for so long was by no means yet hardened, and though he knew
nothing of God, his mother's memory stood in the place of God to him.
So the most ignorant among us have a light to guide us. Let us be
thankful if it is a star so bright as that of mother's love. For,
strange to say, the older lad, the boy who stood in the dock with that
brazen, unabashed face, the clever, accomplished London thief, who
though not unknown to the police, had hitherto by his skill and cunning
almost always escaped the hands of justice, he too, down deep in his
heart of hearts, thought of his mother; he took one quick, furtive
glance around as if to look for her, then, apparently relieved, folded
his arms and fixed his bold eyes on Mr Vernon. Then the trial, in the
usual form in which such trials are conducted in police-courts, went on.
The prisoners' names and ages were first ascertained.
"William Jenks, aged fourteen; Richard Darrell, aged ten," sounding
distinctly in the small room.
Then Police Constable 21 B. identified the boys as the same whom he had
caught in the act of removing a gold watch and purse from a gentleman's
pocket in the midst of the crowds who thronged the streets on Tuesday.
He described very accurately the whole proceedings, stating how and why
his suspicions had been aroused--how he had dodged the boys for some
little time, had observed them whispering together, had seen Dick buy
his false nose and sixpenny fiddle, had overheard a few words which gave
him a further clue to some mischief, had seen them separate, had closely
noticed Dick's antics, had watched the violent push he gave the old
gentleman, and finally had laid his hand on Jenks as he drew forth the
watch and purse from his victim's pocket.
His statements, delivered slowly and impressively, were taken down by a
clerk of the court, and then read over to him, and signed as quite
correct; then the constable retiring, the old gentleman who had been the
victim of the robbery appeared in the witness-box.
Very irate was this witness, and very indignant the glances he gave over
his spectacles at the prisoners.
Those were the boys of course!
Well, he had been befooled by the small chap's funny nose and absurd
antics--any one else would have been the same. Well, he _had_ a
personal interest in the great race, and had come out to meet some
friends who were returning from Epsom, he had given the small boy only a
passing thought. When violently knocked by him, he had believed it to
be accidental, and caused by the eagerness and swaying of the crowd--his
was not a suspicious nature. No, he had felt no hand in his pocket--and
knew nothing of any robbery until the policeman showed him his own purse
and watch in the elder prisoner's hand. Though obliged to the constable
for his zeal, he must add he thought it _shameful_ that such a thing
could happen in any well-governed land!
"Will you tell us precisely what your purse contained, and describe its
appearance?" asked Mr Vernon.
"I can do that to the letter," replied the angry man. "I am not likely
to forget my own purse or my own money."
"We must ask you to confine your remarks to answering the questions put
to you," interfered the magistrate. "How much did your purse contain,
and what kind of purse was it?"
"The purse you wish me to describe, and which I repeat I _can_ describe,
was a green Russian leather one, with silver fastenings. It contained
(I know to a farthing what it contained) five sovereigns in gold, a
half-sovereign, two florins, and sixpence, besides in one pocket a
cheque for twenty pounds on the City Bank. The cheque was not signed."
The purse being opened, and its contents found to answer to this
description, it was handed back to the old gentleman, who was then
requested to describe his watch; and on his doing so, and also getting
back this property, he became much more gracious, and retired, with his
anger considerably cooled, to his former place beside the little woman
in black.
"If you have a watch, ma'am, hold it safely," he whispered to her.
"Even here, and surrounded by the officers of the law, we are not safe
from the light fingers of these young ruffians."
Just then there was a bustle, and a movement of fresh interest in the
court. Another witness was appearing.
Led by the hand of Constable 21 B. a little girl was led into the
witnesses' box, a little girl with an old woman's face, grave, worn,
pale. At the sight of this witness Dick changed colour violently, and
even Jenks gave way to some passing emotion.
For an instant a pair of sad dark eyes gazed steadily at both the boys.
They were speaking eyes, and they said as plainly as possible--"I cannot
save you. I would help you, even _you_, Jenks, out of this, but I
cannot. I have come here to speak the truth, and the truth _will_, the
truth _must_ do you harm."
Flo, with all her deep ignorance, had one settled conviction, that no
one was ever yet heard of who told a lie in the witnesses' box.
"How old is the little girl?" asked Mr Vernon.
The question was repeated to her.
"Don't know," she answered promptly.
"Have you no idea, child? try and think!"
"No, I doesn't know," said Flo. Then she added after a pause, "_Mother_
knowed me age, and she said ef I lived till this month (ain't this month
June?) as I'd be nine."
"Nine years old," said the magistrate, and the clerk of the court took a
note of the fact.
"Now, little girl, what is your name?"
"Darrell."
"Darrell, do you know the nature of an oath?"
"Eh?" questioned Flo.
"Do you know who God is? You have got to take a solemn oath to God that
you will speak nothing but the truth while you stand there."
"Yes," said Flo, "I'll on'y speak the truth."
"Do you know about God?"
"Mother used to say `God 'elp me.' I don't know nothink else--'cept
'bout Heve," she added after another pause.
"What do you know about Eve?"
"She wor the first thief, she wor. She prigged the apple off God's
tree."
A laugh through the court; but the odd little figure in mother's old
bonnet never smiled, her eyes were turned again reproachfully on Dick--
he was following in the footsteps of "Heve."
"You may administer the oath," said the magistrate to the usher of the
court, and then the Bible was placed in Flo's hands and the well-known
solemn words addressed to her.
"The Evidence you shall give to the court, shall be the truth, the whole
truth, and nothing else but the truth, so help you God."
"Yes," answered Flo.
"Kiss the book," said the usher.
She did so gravely, and handed it back to him. "Now, Darrell, just
answer the questions put to you, and remember you are on your oath to
speak the truth. Who are these boys? Do you know them?"
"Yes, yer Washup."
Flo had heard Mr Vernon spoken to as "Your Worship," and had adopted
the name with avidity.
"What are they called?"
"Little 'un's Dick--t'other Jenks."
"Which of the two is your brother?"
"Little chap."
"Do you live together--you and your brother and Jenks?"
"Yes; number seven, Duncan Street."
"Have you a father and mother?"
"No. Father fell from a 'ouse and wor killed--he wor a mason; and
mother, she died a year ago. We 'ad Scamp wid us too," added Flo;
"leastways we 'ad till the night o' the Derby."
"Who is Scamp?"
"My dawg."
A laugh.
"Do not mind about your dog now, Darrell," said the magistrate. "Tell
me how you live."
"'Ow I lives? Course I lives on wittles; and when I can't get wittles I
lives on nothink."
"Mr Vernon means, what do you do to earn money?" explained the
constable.
"Oh! I translates."
"You translate!" said Mr Vernon, raising his eye brows in wonder that
anything literary should find its way to Flo's hands; "I did not know
that you could read."
"No, more I can--I knows nothink 'bout `read and pray.' I never was
glad to see that 'ere day. No--I translates; and ef they is down at the
'eel, and bust at the sides, and hout at the toes, wy I makes 'em as
good as new fur hall that."
"She cobbles old boots and shoes, your Worship," explained the amused
constable. "They call it translating down in Duncan Street."
"Oh! Does your brother translate also, Darrell?"
"No, yer Washup; Dick 'ave a broom and crossin'. 'Ee wor doin' a tidy
lot lately wid 'is broom and crossin'."
"Now remember you are on your oath. How did you spend your time on the
Derby Day?"
"I sold small dolls to the gents."
"Were you with your brother and the other prisoner?"
"No, yer Washup. Jenks 'ee said as we worn't to keep company."
"Did he tell you why?"
"'Ee said as we'd do better bis'ness apart. 'Ee was in the blackin'
line, and Dick in the fusee line."
"Where were you at the time of the Robbery?"
"Close ahint Jenks and Dick."
"Did they see you?"
"No."
"What were they doing? what did you see them do?"
"Dick, 'ee 'ad a funny little red nose on, and 'ee capered about, and
played the fiddle."
"Well, go on."
"The people, they was pressing hevery way, and the folks was cheerin',
wen--hall on a sudden--"
"Well?"
"Dick--'ee gave a great leap in the hair, and down 'ee come slap-bang
'gainst that 'ere gent," pointing to the red-faced gentleman; "and
Jenks--"
"What about Jenks? Don't forget your oath, Darrell."
"I'm not a forgettin'--I'm a comin' to Jenks. No, Jenks," suddenly
turning round and addressing him, "I wouldn't tell on you ef I wasn't
standin' yere where no lies was hever spoke. 'Ee stepped forrard as
soft as soft, and pulled hout a purse and a watch hout o' the gent's
pocket."
"Are these the watch and purse?"
"Yes."
The clerk of the court then read over Flo's evidence, and as she could
neither read nor write, she was shown how to put her mark to the paper.
"You may go now," said the magistrate; "I don't wish to ask you anything
further."
Constable 21 B. took her arm, but she struggled against him, and held
her ground.
"Please, yer Washup, I 'ave spoke the truth."
"Indeed, I hope so."
"May the little chap come 'ome wid me, and I'll--" But here official
authority was called to interfere, and Flo was summarily ejected from
the witness-box.
She found a seat at the other side of the little woman in black, who
took the child's trembling hand in hers. A few moments of patient
summing up of evidence, and then the magistrate asked the prisoners if
they had anything to say for themselves.
"Please, I'll never do it no more," said poor little Dick, in a tone
which nearly broke his sister's heart; but Jenks, the older and more
hardened offender, was silent.
Then the sentence was made known. Dick, in consideration of his youth,
and its being a first offence, was only to go to a reformatory school,
but Jenks was doomed to Wandsworth House of Correction for nine long
months.