ALDERMAN FIGSLEY.
The clamorous fear and sense of extreme mortification at having to
figure in a petty local court in some obscure part of London, as a
witness in such a cause--her very name to go forth in print too, as
connected with it--haunted Mary keenly, till a climax was put to her
endurance on the morning of the second day, when Finnis arrived with
the announcement that her presence was required before Alderman
Figsley at the office in W---- Street, when the prisoner, familiarly
known as "Ben Ginger," would be brought up for a preliminary
examination and committal.
A close cab was summoned, and they set out together, Mrs. Primer
assuring her that she must keep up her courage, as this petty
annoyance would soon be over.
When they arrived, Mary was politely enough handed to a seat within
the bar, near a table covered with books and printed papers; and
there she sat with a palpitating heart while the Alderman, a fussy,
portly, and wealthy city man, with a bald head, a rubicund visage,
and several double chins, disposed rapidly of numerous cases and
accusations by fines, committals, or remittance to a higher court.
The heinous crimes of poverty and sleeping in the open air, were
always visited severely; and a little orphan urchin, whose nightly
couch was the iron roller of the neighbouring park, was locked up
without mercy.
The court in W---- Street was a dingy looking apartment, the windows
of which were placed high in the damp and discoloured walls. It was
a metropolitan court, and consequently presided over by an alderman;
all other magistrates are stipendiary--carefully selected
barristers--else Mary's case might have been managed differently had
she been before one of them.
A gentleman of fashionable appearance, calling himself Mr. Jones
Robinson, was brought up for extinguishing and smashing a street lamp
in the exuberance of his spirits; and Mary drew her black veil closer
on recognising Everard Home, the Master of Ernescleugh, who after
tapping playfully, and perhaps contemptuously, with his cane, on the
iron spikes of the dock before him, paid his fine, and departed with
the air of one who deemed the affair a joke.
"Call the next case--what is it?" said the magistrate, impatiently,
for as none of those before him possessed any particular interest he
was getting a little weary, and proceeded to polish his bald head
with a silk handkerchief in irritation till it shone.
"William Trayner--livery servant, your worship, accused of assault in
a Betting House," was the reply; "his master, an officer about to
embark for the seat of war, will be ready to pay any fine you may
impose."
And to her astonishment, Mary beheld the impudent looking groom of
Ralph Chesters--the same long-bodied, short-legged, and gimlet-eyed
individual who had aided and abetted him in the scheme against
herself--step into the dock with a remarkably airy and confident
aspect, while at the same moment Chesters entered the court, attired
in a fashionable morning costume, and certainly looking more bloated
and dissipated than ever.
Mary was too thoroughly Scottish by blood and education to be without
a tinge of superstition in her character; and to her it seemed
ominous of misfortune--a conjunction of three evil stars,--a strange
coincidence,--that those three men who had brought her so much
mischief at home, should be there, in that London Court, at this
unhappy juncture.
Chesters' quick eye immediately fell upon Mary seated near the
Alderman, a remarkable piece of courtesy which roused his curiosity;
but as yet, her veil totally prevented recognition.
The assault in the Betting House was fully proved against Mr. Bill
Trayner, who was wont to make up a book on coming events as well as
his master, who immediately paid the fine. Trayner touched his
fore-lock to the Magistrate, and vanished at once; but Chesters,
inspired by curiosity--and, perhaps, a deeper interest--lingered a
little in a corner, to the infinite chagrin of Mary, leisurely
sucking the white ivory handle of his riding whip the while.
"There is but one more case, your worship," said Inspector Tappleton;
"the assault upon and robbery of, Mr. Fenchurch, solicitor, by
garrotters, of whom we have, unfortunately, but one in custody as
yet."
As he spoke, a pale, cadaverous, and savage looking fellow in very
worn habiliments appeared in the dock between two officers, and
glanced at the magistrate and all about him with defiance and
malevolence. He had been brought from the House of Detention, and
was heavily ironed, as the authorities seemed to fear that he was
quite capable, unless under powerful restraint, of destroying himself
or some one else, as he frequently threatened to do.
He boldly and furiously denied all knowledge of the circumstance of
which he was accused, averring that he was in another place at the
time.
"We have a competent witness, your worship," said Inspector Tappleton
of the 1st Division.
"Stand forward, Mary Lennox, and draw off your glove," said a voice,
authoritatively.
Chesters gave an undisguised and almost convulsive start on hearing
the name; and still more was he astonished when Mary came forward.
"Lift your veil, please," said the Alderman, with a very curt nod.
Her face was pale as that of death, and her eyes were full of alarm,
shame, and a restlessness of expression; the very sweetness of her
mouth had departed, and a hard line replaced the curve of her once
beautiful upper lip.
"Are you married or single? speak quickly," said he, pausing, pen in
hand, after the usual preliminaries.
"Single, sir," she answered faintly.
"No objection to be the other, I suppose," said he, hazarding the
attempt at a jest.
"Yes, I guess as she's a rum un' your worship," said a constable,
encouraged by this; "for she vears a kind o' vedding ring on the
wrong finger."
"Silence!" said the Inspector, severely.
The portly Alderman now turned to Mary, and politely enough required
her to relate all she had seen, and to confirm her full recognition
of the prisoner. Her evidence was deemed quite conclusive to warrant
the committal of the culprit for trial before a higher court, and he
was accordingly removed, partly by force, muttering vengeance against
Mary if she ever crossed his path again, as being herself an
accomplice.
"Don't be afraid, Miss," whispered Finnis, on seeing how terrified
she was; "'taint likely as the streets of London will be troubled by
him again."
"Search her pockets!" bellowed Ben Ginger, as he was dragged away. A
constable approached her; Mary shrunk back, but instinctively put her
hands into the outer pockets of her jacket, and drew forth from one,
in utter confusion and bewilderment, a leather portemonnaie, which
was found empty of money, but contained the cards of Mr. Fenchurch,
to whom it undoubtedly belonged.
"This looks ill, young woman--deuced ill for you," said the Alderman,
frowning.
"It may all be a plant, your worship--they've perhaps put it in the
young lady's pocket," said Inspector Tappleton.
"Still, why did she not find it there before, and produce it?" was
the suspicious question of the magistrate.
Mary's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth; she vainly strove to
say that she had never, until then, thought of looking in her
pockets, or on going home that night; she was crushed, terrified,
bewildered, and unable to speak, till she faintly implored a glass of
water.
After some inquiries concerning Mary, as to where she lived, what
friends she possessed and so forth, the magistrate said, coldly--
"I find that your account of yourself is so unsatisfactory, that I
must require you to give your personal recognisance that you will
appear at the due time to give further evidence against this man."
Mary stared in utter bewilderment; she failed indeed to understand
what he meant, but feeling only that money was somehow required of
her, she put her hand to her purse, and then nervously withdrew it.
With some irritation of manner, for though obese, he was not blessed
with overmuch patience or temper, the Alderman repeated the
information that she must give the necessary security for her
appearance whenever required.
"Sir, I have not above six pounds in the world--it is impossible; if
that sum will do, take it, and keep it; but permit me to go, I
entreat of you. I am so sick of this place!" she said imploringly.
"Mr. Fenchurch is very ill, you say, Tappleton?"
"Dangerously, sir--we have here a doctor's certificate," replied the
Inspector.
"Then, if anything serious befell him, the prisoner will be liable
for manslaughter--or worse--a double reason for procuring security to
insure the ends of justice."
Turning to Mary, he said, "The discovery of this purse upon you is
awkward; can no one be found who will be bail for you?"
"None, sir--oh, whom could I ask?"
"That is your affair; not mine."
All this time she had studiously kept her back to Chesters; but the
sense of his odious presence, if it oppressed her in one way, gave
her a species of false courage in another.
"You positively cannot find bail?"
"Oh no, sir--no."
"Then I have but one alternative," said Mr. Alderman Figsley, dipping
his gold pen in the ink bottle; "sorry for it, but I must at least
commit you to prison till this fellow's trial comes off."
"To prison--to prison!" repeated Mary in a voice of anguish that is
indescribable, while she clasped her hands and gazed into the round
stolid face and shining gold spectacles of the city Solon with
intense fear and entreaty mingled, while on her quivering lips a
prayer seemed to hover.
"If I may venture to speak a word, your worship," began Finnis the
ex-Lancer, with irrepressible anxiety; "I served under this young
lady's brother in the war in Central India, and elsewhere under
Brigadier----"
"What the deuce has Central India to do with the case!" exclaimed the
Alderman, testily, as he looked at his massive repeater, and
remembered that he had an appointment in the city; "the girl had no
business to be prowling about the streets alone at the hour
mentioned; I don't like that affair of the purse, and I must insure
her presence; she will be safer a prisoner than at large. You are a
soft-hearted fellow, Finnis, and this is not the first time you have
been the dupe of a pretty face and an artful manner. You hear me,
sir!"
Whatever was the instance to which the Alderman referred, in which
Finnis had been guilty of softness of heart, the rebuke had the
effect of completely silencing him, and the good-natured fellow slunk
back abashed.
"You have positively no friends in London to whom you can apply?"
said Figsley, pausing as he looked doubtfully at the girl's
horror-struck face.
In her despair Mary thought of poor Mrs. Primer. But could she, a
total stranger, expect a widow struggling for subsistence by letting
a humble lodging-house, to be her surety for some amount--she knew
not what! Then she actually thought again of the haughty Lady
Ernescleugh; but, as before, shrunk from an appeal to her.
"No--no," muttered Mary: "better let the daughter of Oliver Lennox
die unknown in the very gutter, than appeal to any--to any, but God!"
"I have a letter," faltered Mary; "a letter from a lady of rank in
Scotland to a friend in London, but found, sir, that she had gone to
Paris, and--and----"
"Where is this letter? I cannot open it, of course; but the address
may be some clue or guarantee."
Mary searched her pockets in vain; her letter was gone! In fact, she
had pulled it forth with her handkerchief, and it was now safely
deposited under the left foot of Cheaters, who had cleverly twitched
it towards him with the lash of his riding whip unseen.
"Oh, fatality! The letter is lost--I have it not, sir!"
"This is all, I fear, some specious pretence; we are too much used to
such trickery in London. If you were at all so respectable as you
pretend, and as your appearance certainly warrants, you would find no
difficulty in getting some humane person to be security for you.
Every one has some friend----"
"Save the poor; and God knows how poor am I!" she added, with
touching pathos.
"I have no time for all this sentimentalism; you must go to prison!"
replied the magistrate, as he proceeded deliberately to fill up the
warrant for her committal.
"Oh, Chesters--Captain Chesters," exclaimed Mary, suddenly turning in
her dire extremity and fear, and stretching her hands towards him;
"will you not speak for me?"
"Whew--what is this?" asked the Alderman, frowning at her over his
spectacles, and thoroughly filled with suspicion now.
He had been actually beginning to conceive the idea of making some
other arrangement concerning her. But now he rapidly dismissed the
thought from his mind, and felt irritated that he had permitted her
to impose upon him for a single moment.
"I thought, girl, that you had no friends in London; yet you suddenly
recognise one here--here in this very court, and in the master of
that disreputable groom, whom I have just permitted to go under a
fine for a very unprovoked assault. There must be some collusion
here! Captain Chesters, your town address is the Army and Navy Club,
I believe?"
"Major Chesters, Mr. Figsley; I am Major Chesters, of the Turkish
Contingent."
"Do you know this young person?"
"I know her intimately."
"Can you speak for her in any satisfactory way?"
"On one condition, and I must name it to herself."
He drew near her, and in French whispered something rapidly to Mary,
who surveyed him with a sublime expression of scorn and loathing.
"What is all this?" said Alderman Figsley, becoming now seriously
angry. It is doubtful whether a knowledge of French was among the
number of his accomplishments, but he frowned portentously, and
muttered something about "contempt of court."
"Oh, sir," exclaimed Mary, "this gentleman--if I may venture to call
him so now--knew my father, knew my family, knew me almost as a
child, and he might have the common humanity to speak one gentle word
for me here."
"I only know, Miss Lennox, that in your own locality at home, you
were spoken of lightly enough latterly," he replied with a malevolent
glance.
"Oh, papa! my poor papa!--thank Heaven you know nothing of all this!
What have I ever done to you, sir, that you should treat me thus, in
a strange place, too, when you might, and ought, as a Christian to
befriend me?"
"Bah! your name and mine have been mixed up enough, and oddly enough
already, Mary; so it is no use attempting to play genteel comedy or
act injured innocence here."
The subtle villany of this speech, in such a time and place, made all
present exchange smiles of intelligence, and caused the magistrate to
be less inclined to pity Mary. He was far from being a hard-hearted
man in the main, and thought there might--nay must--be more in all
this scene than met the eye or ear. So he signed the fatal warrant,
and leisurely placed the blotting paper over it. Then he handed it
to an officer, saying--
"It is for Tothill-fields Prison; but, in case of mistake, let her
have a separate sleeping cell," retired at once to an inner room, as
if to cut short a matter that had already occupied too much of his
valuable time.
"Tothill-fields," repeated Chesters to himself; "good, I'll have you
yet, my proud little minx! Bravo! here's Ralph Rooke Chesters
against the field! Unless, in despite of the fate that is hurrying
her downward, she take some silly qualm of conscience, as it is
called, bar accident the race is mine! How lucky that Trayner fell
into that scrape and brought me here. I should have known nothing
otherwise of her being in London. Ta, ta," said he aloud, with all
the coolness of practised effrontery, "I am going to soldier again,
but in Turkey, my girl, for I am sorry to say that my creditors are
much more attached to me and my fortunes than you are, my pretty
Mary; so it is better to have a shy at the Russians abroad, than
become a billiard-marker, or a gentleman rider at home. Any messages
for our mutual friend the Fusileer? Shall be happy to take them, I'm
sure."
And kissing the tips of his kid gloves, with an ironical bow and a
leering smile, for both of which he deserved to have been blown from
the mouth of a gun, the heartless vaurien, gamester, and spendthrift
mounted his horse and rode off to the Lady's Mile, and "to do a bit
of park," followed by his groom in accurate livery, while Mary Lennox
of Lonewoodlee, in a state more dead than alive, and looking as if
transformed to marble, was taken away to the prison in which she was
to be detained, in a common dark and grated police van!