his wife who, previously to the fire, sold sweetmeats and fruit, &c.
next door to the "Temple of the Muses." But the necessities of the
venerable couple drove them before the public in a rather prominent
shape. Handbills were printed in the town, and taken round by the old
gentleman to the various shopkeepers and other inhabitants, in which
hand-bill was set forth the melancholy accident which had burned his
house down, destroyed his stock, and left him in beggary, as he was
unfortunately not insured. A great deal of commisseration was excited in
and beyond the town, and the poor couple got something like 100_l._
subscribed for them by voluntary contributions. A clergyman preached a
sermon in the largest dissenting chapel of B---- on the old man's
special behalf; and the reverend gentleman drew such a pathetic
description of the poor people's sufferings and forlorn condition, that
a very tidy sum was dropped into the plates at the chapel-door as the
congregation left the sacred edifice.
The old man did not, however, set up in business immediately, because
the house or hovel was not at once rebuilt. The owner of the land formed
a notion of erecting upon it a more elegant structure than the one which
had been destroyed, and the former tenant could not tell whether he
would be able to occupy the old site or not.
Messrs. Keeling and Co., of the "Temple of the Muses," complained very
bitterly about the destruction of their premises and stock, just as they
were on the threshold of deriving the advantage of their invested
capital and labours over the dreary season. They made a formal complaint
to the local authorities as to the construction of the building, and
contended that if similar arrangements to those which prevailed in the
metropolis had existed in B----, that is to say, if, for instance,
proper party-walls had been erected between all the edifices in the town
of B----, the "Temple of the Muses" would not have been ignited by the
fire in the adjoining hovel. In fact, Mr. Keeling pretty extensively
ventilated the grievance of his firm, although it never transpired who
was represented by the "Co." He also, of course, commented with very
legitimate warmth upon the wretched condition of the town fire-engine,
and on the lack of means for extinguishing the flames before they had
acquired a hold over the premises.
It is perhaps unnecessary to say that after this fire my inquiries were
pursued with great vigilance, and that a careful watch was kept upon Mr.
Keeling and upon Mr. Cross.
I advised the company to adopt a bold course; but the solicitors to whom
this advice was directly given, in the first place, hesitated about
endorsing it. The secretary of the company, whom I had reason to see on
more than one occasion, for the purpose of examining the papers sent in
by Messrs. Keeling and Co. when the assurance was effected, also shared
the timidity of the company's legal advisers. Still I was told to pursue
my investigations, and I did so.
A correspondence ensued between Mr. Keeling and the secretary of the
company immediately after the fire. The secretary was rather wily, but
Mr. Keeling was as acute. After some parleying, and the exchange of one
or two letters, the secretary, in a fit of impatience, told Mr. Keeling
that the company had their doubts about the _bonâ fides_ of his claim,
and that he thought it was possible it might be resisted.
On receiving this intimation from the secretary, Mr. Keeling was
indignant, and demanded an interview with the board of directors.
The garrulity of the old agent had given this man confidence. He thought
he saw in that, and in other circumstances around him, enough to
warrant him in a confident belief that his crime was unsuspected. Or he
may have argued with himself that safety lay in a bold attitude and
tone. So he adopted that kind of tone and attitude. He was informed, in
reply to his demand, that he could not see the board, but that he might
see the secretary on any day and hour he chose to appoint.
I should explain that this interview was part of my plan. The secretary
was disposed to refuse to see the incendiary at all, but I overruled his
objections to the meeting.
I had, previous to the appointment for this interview being made and
kept, two or three very deliberate and somewhat anxious conferences with
the solicitor and the secretary of the company. They were for adopting
an exceedingly cautious policy. I was still for taking bold steps. I
recommended the arrest of Mr. Keeling at once, suggesting, in support of
that measure, that in all probability, if I did so, the other members of
his gang would fly, and that evidence of guilt sufficient, at all
events, to rebut any claim at common law for the insurance money, would
be thus obtained. Indeed, I thought, in all probability, it would never
be attempted to enforce the claim. This, I argued, would be the ultimate
consequence, even should Mr. Keeling slip through the hands of the
hangman or the convict-warder; but added, that I thought there was
little doubt, if Mr. Cross, Mr. Keeling, and the old man and woman, the
tenants of the hovel, were all arrested, I could get evidence enough to
convict the lot--if in no other way, partially by the confession of one
of the set. I added, for the instruction and enlightenment of my
auditors and employers, and as the climax of my reasoning, that I never
yet knew a case in which a gang or a lot of confederates in crime were
seized, that there was not a perfect race between them in tendering
Queen's evidence. I could not lead the convictions of the solicitor and
secretary up to the point of my demonstration or argument, but they
agreed to allow me a tolerably wide discretion in my personal
conversation with Mr. Keeling at the interview.
One Monday morning, at eleven o'clock, Mr. Keeling walked into the
insurance office. He certainly looked very unlike Mr. Henry Newton. The
clean shaven face of the manufacturer near Dunstable was now ornamented
by carefully trimmed hirsute appendages. The sober garb of the
straw-bonnet manufacturer had given place to the swell costume of the
proprietor of the "Temple of the Muses," who dressed, I may remark _en
passant_, in good clothes. Some people might say he looked the
gentleman, although to my eye he looked just what he was--a consummate,
perfect type of arch-villany. He was cool and collected. I was at least
as calm as he was on the outside, and I warrant much calmer inside.
After some little conversation between the secretary and the criminal,
in which the former suggested that the items of the demand he was trying
to recover were vague and uncertain, and stated that the company would
require to investigate them, and that he thought they would be sure to
contest the claim, and in which conversation Mr. Keeling used strong
language about the disreputable character of those threats, and indeed
said that he should bring his action at once, and that the company might
do their best or their worst, and that he would do his best to show them
up to the whole world and effect their ruin,--I thought it time to
intervene.
I stepped forward, looked Mr. Keeling steadily in the face, and I saw
his eye quail as I addressed him.
"Look here, sir. It is time to put an end to this nonsense. Whether you
know me or not, I know you perfectly, and all about you, and the gang to
which you belong. Let me tell you, I know all about that fire in
Whitechapel, and enough to transport you about that fire in Birmingham;
enough, I think, to send you to Portland for a few years for those fires
in Manchester and Liverpool. I have watched your career with my own eye
for a long while, Mr. Newton, or Keeling, or Roberts, or Jamieson, or
whoever you really are--and now listen to me. You got clear off with
that money through your fire near Dunstable. Think yourself lucky that
you are not hanged, with your pretended brother Albert--Mr. Cross, I
mean--for the murder of your confederate Paterson. Understand that it is
no good-will of mine that will let you step across the threshold of this
door again; and I do not yet know whether you will be permitted to do
so. I know I have got at every thing about your B---- experiment, Mr.
Temple of the Muses. I know who your neighhours, the old man and woman,
were. They are Bill Smith and his wife, the fences of Rosemary Lane. I
know what was done with the money got by the chapel subscription. Why,
you bought your railway-ticket for London yesterday out of the proceeds
of the charity sermon, you consummate villain. I was never the means of
hanging a man yet; but I should like to hand you over to Jack Ketch, as
much as I should like to enjoy a good dinner to-day."
I placed my back against the outer door of the secretary's office, in
order that I might compel Mr. Keeling to listen to all I had to say. He
was, therefore, obliged to listen to all I have here written down, and
somewhat more than I inform my reader. It was, I imagine, a difficult
thing for him to control the expression of his feelings; but he did so
tolerably well, with the exception of a little restlessness of the eyes,
and a slight nervous movement of the countenance. There was no distinct
symptom of fear, or any thing of the kind, in his breast.
About half a minute after I had done, the fellow broke silence--being
obliged to say something--by observing, "This is too bad, sir; and you
will have to repent addressing me in such language."
I knew what the company wanted. I had explained to them, in addition to
what I have already told the reader, how I could, no doubt, trace the
pianos to their source, and have shown that they were not paid for; or
that they were manifestly inferior things, not worth 25 per cent of the
sum asked for them in the way of trade; and that they were only
intended as a blind or cover for the fraudulent claim. I could in fact,
beyond all doubt, get a conviction of arson in any criminal court; but I
knew that the company merely wished to avoid paying a claim that was
fraudulent; and as corporations have no conscience, or care about
hunting down a gang of incendiaries, or doing any thing with the simple
view of serving public policy,--knowing this, and seeing the end of my
game (without offending my employers) at hand,--I just put my arm in
front of the incendiary and murderer, gave him a chair with mock
politeness, and asked the secretary if he would let me have the
exclusive use of his office for a few minutes. He retired on this hint.
He had scarcely left the room--he had certainly not been out more than a
minute--before I said to the culprit, "As you came here under the
invitation of the secretary, you are free to leave, but I will give you
only two hours. I am a detective officer, as I dare say you have
guessed, and perhaps you have wondered that you did not know me. Now, to
be frank with you, I may say that this company will, I believe, be
content to let you get away, but they will not be satisfied to let you
or your confederates have the chance of defrauding either its
shareholders or any other company again. Your movements will be watched
from this door; and in every way that you turn you may reckon that we
are on your track, as we have been for more than a year and a half. If
you are as wise as I take you to be, you will get out of the country as
soon as possible; and if you are then but moderately shrewd, you will
never come back again. Mind, I have no authority to say this, but I do
say it on the strength of my own responsibility."
I opened the door which led into the lobby of the company's offices. I
looked at Keeling, and uttered my last monosyllable in his ear--"Go."
He went.
I had the satisfaction of reporting that within a few days he was a
passenger by a steam-vessel from Southampton to New York. I had also the
pleasure of announcing to the company that within a few days afterwards
Mr. Cross left our shores for the same port by way of Liverpool. I
further learned and stated that the venerable old man and woman at B----
had returned to their old haunts, and had been heard to complain that
they had been "sold" by Messrs. Keeling and Messrs. Cross.
The company of course saved 3000_l._ The solicitor highly complimented
me to my face; I also had to listen to the compliments of the secretary;
and I received payment of my bill. The secretary, who was a very
gentlemanly man, appeared to think that something more by way of
courtesy was due to me than the payment of my charges. He said that he
should bring my case before the board, and would feel personally glad if
I would call on him on the following Wednesday at 11 o'clock, when he
would introduce me to his directors, and no doubt he should obtain from
them instructions to further recognise the services I had rendered, not
alone to that institution, but to all the fire-insurance companies of
the metropolis.
I accepted this invitation and attended the meeting of the board. The
members of that board were a rum lot of fellows, but to describe them
might be tedious. I should like to say that a fat old man was in the
chair.
As the secretary was explaining the case in detail (for it seemed that
the board knew little if any thing about the matter up to this point,
every thing having been done by the orders of the secretary and the
solicitor, on, I should imagine, their own responsibility), this old man
interrupted him by such profound remarks as "Ah! I see; very bad
case--How fortunate!--Villain ought to be hung--Why did we not prosecute
him?--I think we ought to have prosecuted him!"
It was not, however, for me to interfere with the conversation. I merely
listened; and at the conclusion, the secretary said that he thought he
would ask this gentleman (myself) to attend to-day, in order that he
might receive from the board personally some expression of their sense
of, what it appeared to him, my eminent services.
The old man thereupon addressed me. "Oh, yes; oh, yes," he said. "You
have done your dooty very well, my man; very clever, I think I ought to
say." And he looked round at the other members for a nod of
acquiescence, which was given.
One keen, intelligent-looking man said he thought some more substantial
recognition of such services as the secretary had described ought to be
made, and that he should, therefore, move a vote of thanks to me; which
proposal was seconded by another gentleman, and passed unanimously.
The chairman, again addressing me, said, "You see, we have given you a
vote of thanks;" which I acknowledged by a simple nod of the head--not,
I am afraid, very highly esteeming the compliment.
Another gentleman then rose and said, "I know that a vote of thanks is
all very well; but I think we ought to make this gentleman some
substantial recognition of his services. I am only a young member of the
board; I do not like to move the resolution myself, but I would suggest
to you, sir, as chairman, whether you should not move that a sum of
money be given to the officer?"
"I don't see that," said the chairman, "at all. He has done very clever;
but he has only done his dooty, after all, like we are doing ours; and I
don't think we ought to spend shareholders' money in compliments to men
for just doing their dooty."
I heard this remark with not very comfortable feelings, but did not say
any thing.
The gentleman who had proposed the testimonial said that he could hardly
agree with their worthy chairman in all he had said; and another member
of the board said something to the same effect.
The chairman now seemed to think he was a little in the wrong, and to
treat these remarks as a rebuke. He appeared to think he was bound to
recognise my services by what, I dare say, he imagined a little act of
personal generosity.
Again talking at me, he said, "Well, well! do not let us waste time
about this; we cannot spend the money of the company, that I am certain
about. I will make this gentleman a present myself." Then turning to
me, he proceeded, "Here, my man; you have heard what has been said by
the board. I will make you a present of half-a-sovereign out of my own
pocket."
This marvellous act of generosity I confess quite overpowered my
self-control. I could not help a passing desire to insult the old man.
For the life of me, I could not smother that resolution; so, taking the
half-sovereign between my fingers, I said to him, "Well, you see, sir, I
agree with you. When a man has done his duty, and especially when he has
been paid for it, he should not want any thing else. I don't want any
thing else. Your company has paid me 310_l._ 14_s._, which amount will
quite remunerate me; and if you have no objection, sir, as I have no
doubt you have got some poor relations, perhaps you will hand one of
them this half-sovereign, with my compliments."
I did not wait to notice the effect of this retort upon the pursy
magnate; but laying down the coin on the middle of the table, I simply
and hastily said, "Good morning, sir,--good morning, gentlemen," and
quitted the palatial structure which contained the head-quarters of the
Triumph of Meanness Assurance Company.
A RAILWAY ACCIDENT?
A few years ago, and about fifteen miles from London, a gentleman named
Freeling, returning from the village of A---- to the village of B----, a
distance of only four miles, had to cross one of the two trunk lines of
railway which runs northward from the great metropolis and intercepts
populous districts of England. To tell the exact truth about this
gentleman, he had been visiting a friend--a man of substance, and
likewise in the horticultural, floricultural, and agricultural lines, in
which Mr. Freeling's mind had an inclination to run. To tell a little
more of the truth, as it is desirable to tell the whole, after
examining, approving, and admiring the skill of his friend and its
results, Mr. Freeling was invited by Mr. Goodwin to dinner; and I
believe that the guest imbibed rather excessively of his host's
spiritual stores and wines. Yet he was not insensible to sights and
sounds; and if he had been, he would not have figured as a character in
this narrative.
The way of Mr. Freeling from his friend's house to his own home lay,
after crossing the railway, through a narrow lane not far from a
station. Happily for him however, perhaps, he was not aware that, near
the footpath across the line (that is, the railway-line), there had been
a great smash about the time that the two rustic amateurs had been
discussing the good cheer of the host--somewhere about four hours before
the incidents I am about to describe. The _débris_ had been, however,
cleared up before our friend passed the scene of the catastrophe, and
none of its relics were visible in the moonlight. He had not proceeded
far beyond the rails, when he thought he heard a low sound very like a
groan; and if he were any judge of such things (he reasoned), it was the
moaning of a man or woman in pain. He paused; he listened. All was
silent. He moved on a pace or two; listened again; and the wind brought
him something like a repetition of the moan. Could he be mistaken? he
asked himself. No; that was a human voice; perhaps some drunken wretch.
If so, the first thought which suggested itself was, that he should turn
back and see that the man was not lying in the track of the iron horse
or its carriages. Second thoughts are said to be the best,--and, if
selfishness be better than disinterestedness, Mr. Freeling's second
thoughts were better than his first. What did it matter to him, he
argued with himself, if people got drunk? They must suffer for it, was
the second thought of the half-drunken man. So he trudged along again;
but the sound, louder this time, overtook him once more. He was not
essentially an unkind man; and although home had peculiar attractions
for him in his then condition, he was obliged by the force of his human
nature to pause.
Another groan. There could be no mistake about it. A poor wretch was
lying somewhere near him in evident pain. He shouted:
"Holloa! what is the matter?"
A feeble groan responded.
"Where are you?" he cried.
Again a moan.
It was more than decent, although half-drunken, humanity could resist.
He turned back in the direction of the railway a few steps. Then he
paused, and once more a dismal sound greeted his ear.
"Some poor fellow," the traveller said to himself, "must be lying on the
railway in a dying state. What can I do? The nearest station, B----, is
_two_ miles away; the nearest house is two miles. Still, I must find
where he is lying, and what is the matter with him, and do what I can to
help him."
This resolution taken, he walked back, ever and anon pausing to listen,
and now and then guided by the plaintive cry of agony.
At length, after reaching the gate which abutted on the railway, he
paused and listened for another cry to guide him in turning right or
left. A moment supplied the indication he required. He turned to the
left, and proceeded rapidly a distance of three hundred yards, when he
met an obstruction to his course, against which he stumbled. A shriek,
or something like it, followed. It was that of a prostrate man whose
voice he had so frequently heard.
Mr. Freeling bent over the poor sufferer, and learnt enough to satisfy
himself that an accident had happened to this man on the railway, and
that medical assistance and attention were required.
The situation and its incidents had a beneficial effect upon the
intoxicated man,--they roused his senses. In five minutes he was as
sober as he had ever been in his life. Carefully removing the limbs of
the prostrate body out of the way of further immediate danger, he ran
along the course of the railway until he reached a station, where he
learnt the particulars of a collision; but was informed that all the
passengers had been removed, most of them, if not all, being well enough
to proceed on their journey to their respective homes. He insisted that
there must have been at least one exception to this rule, which the
officials at the station had not observed; and they did not require any
further proof of their oversight than that he supplied.
With lanterns, and with the means of removing the wounded passenger, two
porters, and two other men who were pressed into the service, walked
with our friend to the spot where he had found the injured man.
He was still lying there, moaning and groaning with greater vigour than
before. He was lifted with all the gentleness the four bearers were
capable of, and carried by stages along the line back again to the
station.
It was fortunate that, closely adjacent to this station, there was an
hotel--a small, unpretentious establishment, which nobody who was
perfectly master of his own actions would think of selecting for a
temporary abode if he had the means of paying for his entertainment and
refreshment elsewhere. Such as it was, however, it was deemed expedient
to rest the burden under its shelter. The poor man was carried into the
hostelry, and placed on a cosy bed, that formed the leading part of the
furniture of a best bedroom.
He now rallied. He called for brandy, and was supplied with a small
portion of a liquor probably distilled from potatoes in London, but
retailed as the finest cognac.
The liquor seemed to have a good effect on the wounded traveller. After
a few minutes' consciousness, articulation was restored under its genial
influence. He asked one of the people in attendance to take from his
breast-pocket a pocket-book, and from that pocket-book to take out a
letter, the envelope of which gave his address:
"_Mr. Ephraham Sweetman_,
"19 ---- _Street, Pimlico_."
The injured traveller was able to sustain a brief conversation.
"Is this your address, my good man?"
"Yes," was the feeble reply.
"Are you very much injured?"
"Yes," was again slowly and faintly articulated.
"Are these your name and address?" was asked by another person; and the
interrogator held before the eyes of the wounded passenger the envelope
of the letter extracted from his pocket.
A smile was accepted as a reply in the affirmative.
"We had better send for Dr. Scalpel," observed a railway-porter to an
agricultural labourer.
The poor fellow's face betrayed signs of evident dissatisfaction. He
dropped his head, as if fainting.
"We had better send for the doctor."
"No," escaped from the lips of the man upon the bed.
"What can we do?" exclaimed another of the party.
"Dr. Jones," the wounded man hurriedly but faintly exclaimed.
"Can you tell us where he lives?"
No reply was immediately given; and as the poor fellow seemed unable to
bear the weight of his own chest and brain, they laid his head upon the
pillow.