While I was thus endeavouring to occupy and provide for the intermediate
period, till the violence of the pursuit after me might be abated, a
new source of danger opened upon me of which I had no previous
suspicion.
Gines, the thief who had been expelled from Captain Raymond's gang, had
fluctuated, during the last years of his life, between the two
professions of a violator of the laws and a retainer to their
administration. He had originally devoted himself to the first; and
probably his initiation in the mysteries of thieving qualified him to be
peculiarly expert in the profession of a thief-taker--a profession he
had adopted, not from choice, but necessity. In this employment his
reputation was great, though perhaps not equal to his merits; for it
happens here as in other departments of human society, that, however the
subalterns may furnish wisdom and skill, the principals exclusively
possess the _éclat_. He was exercising this art in a very prosperous
manner, when it happened, by some accident, that one or two of his
achievements previous to his having shaken off the dregs of unlicensed
depredation were in danger of becoming subjects of public attention.
Having had repeated intimations of this, he thought it prudent to
decamp; and it was during this period of his retreat that he entered
into the ---- gang.
Such was the history of this man antecedently to his being placed in the
situation in which I had first encountered him. At the time of that
encounter he was a veteran of Captain Raymond's gang; for thieves being
a short-lived race, the character of veteran costs the less time in
acquiring. Upon his expulsion from this community he returned once more
to his lawful profession, and by his old comrades was received with
congratulation as a lost sheep. In the vulgar classes of society no
length of time is sufficient to expiate a crime; but among the
honourable fraternity of thief-takers it is a rule never to bring one of
their own brethren to a reckoning when it can with any decency be
avoided. They are probably reluctant to fix an unnecessary stain upon
the ermine of their profession. Another rule observed by those who have
passed through the same gradation as Gines had done, and which was
adopted by Gines himself, is always to reserve such as have been the
accomplices of their depredations to the last, and on no account to
assail them without great necessity or powerful temptation. For this
reason, according to Gines's system of tactics, Captain Raymond and his
confederates were, as he would have termed it, safe from his
retaliation.
But, though Gines was, in this sense of the term, a man of strict
honour, my case unfortunately did not fall within the laws of honour he
acknowledged. Misfortune had overtaken me, and I was on all sides
without protection or shelter. The persecution to which I was exposed
was founded upon the supposition of my having committed felony to an
immense amount. But in this Gines had had no participation; he was
careless whether the supposition were true or false, and hated me as
much as if my innocence had been established beyond the reach of
suspicion.
The blood-hunters who had taken me into custody at ----, related, as
usual among their fraternity, a part of their adventure, and told of the
reason which inclined them to suppose, that the individual who had
passed through their custody, was the very Caleb Williams for whose
apprehension a reward had been offered of a hundred guineas. Gines,
whose acuteness was eminent in the way of his profession, by comparing
facts and dates, was induced to suspect in his own mind, that Caleb
Williams was the person he had hustled and wounded upon ---- forest.
Against that person he entertained the bitterest aversion. I had been
the innocent occasion of his being expelled with disgrace from Captain
Raymond's gang; and Gines, as I afterwards understood, was intimately
persuaded that there was no comparison between the liberal and manly
profession of a robber from which I had driven him, and the sordid and
mechanical occupation of a blood-hunter, to which he was obliged to
return. He no sooner received the information I have mentioned than he
vowed revenge. He determined to leave all other objects, and consecrate
every faculty of his mind to the unkennelling me from my hiding-place.
The offered reward, which his vanity made him consider as assuredly his
own, appeared as the complete indemnification of his labour and expense.
Thus I had to encounter the sagacity he possessed in the way of his
profession, whetted and stimulated by a sentiment of vengeance, in a
mind that knew no restraint from conscience or humanity.
When I drew to myself a picture of my situation soon after having fixed
on my present abode, I foolishly thought, as the unhappy are accustomed
to do, that my calamity would admit of no aggravation. The aggravation
which, unknown to me, at this time occurred was the most fearful that
any imagination could have devised. Nothing could have happened more
critically hostile to my future peace, than my fatal encounter with
Gines upon ---- forest. By this means, as it now appears, I had fastened
upon myself a second enemy, of that singular and dreadful sort that is
determined never to dismiss its animosity as long as life shall endure.
While Falkland was the hungry lion whose roarings astonished and
appalled me, Gines was a noxious insect, scarcely less formidable and
tremendous, that hovered about my goings, and perpetually menaced me
with the poison of his sting.
The first step pursued by him in execution of his project, was to set
out for the sea-port town where I had formerly been apprehended. From
thence he traced me to the banks of the Severn, and from the banks of
the Severn to London. It is scarcely necessary to observe that this is
always practicable, provided the pursuer have motives strong enough to
excite him to perseverance, unless the precautions of the fugitive be,
in the highest degree, both judicious in the conception, and fortunate
in the execution. Gines indeed, in the course of his pursuit, was often
obliged to double his steps; and, like the harrier, whenever he was at a
fault, return to the place where he had last perceived the scent of the
animal whose death he had decreed. He spared neither pains nor time in
the gratification of the passion, which choice had made his ruling one.
Upon my arrival in town he for a moment lost all trace of me, London
being a place in which, on account of the magnitude of its dimensions,
it might well be supposed that an individual could remain hidden and
unknown. But no difficulty could discourage this new adversary. He went
from inn to inn (reasonably supposing that there was no private house to
which I could immediately repair), till he found, by the description he
gave, and the recollections he excited, that I had slept for one night
in the borough of Southwark. But he could get no further information.
The people of the inn had no knowledge what had become of me the next
morning.
This however did but render him more eager in the pursuit. The
describing me was now more difficult, on account of the partial change
of dress I had made the second day of my being in town. But Gines at
length overcame the obstacle from that quarter.
Having traced me to my second inn, he was here furnished with a more
copious information. I had been a subject of speculation for the leisure
hours of some of the persons belonging to this inn. An old woman, of a
most curious and loquacious disposition, who lived opposite to it, and
who that morning rose early to her washing, had espied me from her
window, by the light of a large lamp which hung over the inn, as I
issued from the gate. She had but a very imperfect view of me, but she
thought there was something Jewish in my appearance. She was accustomed
to hold a conference every morning with the landlady of the inn, some of
the waiters and chambermaids occasionally assisting at it. In the course
of the dialogue of this morning, she asked some questions about the Jew
who had slept there the night before. No Jew had slept there. The
curiosity of the landlady was excited in her turn. By the time of the
morning it could be no other but me. It was very strange! They compared
notes respecting my appearance and dress. No two things could be more
dissimilar. The Jew Christian, upon any dearth of subjects of
intelligence, repeatedly furnished matter for their discourse.
The information thus afforded to Gines appeared exceedingly material.
But the performance did not for some time keep pace with the promise. He
could not enter every private house into which lodgers were ever
admitted, in the same manner that he had treated the inns. He walked the
streets, and examined with a curious and inquisitive eye the countenance
of every Jew about my stature; but in vain. He repaired to Duke's Place
and the synagogues. It was not here that in reality he could calculate
upon finding me; but he resorted to those means in despair, and as a
last hope. He was more than once upon the point of giving up the
pursuit; but he was recalled to it by an insatiable and restless
appetite for revenge.
It was during this perturbed and fluctuating state of his mind, that he
chanced to pay a visit to a brother of his, who was the head-workman of
a printing-office. There was little intercourse between these two
persons, their dispositions and habits of life being extremely
dissimilar. The printer was industrious, sober, inclined to methodism,
and of a propensity to accumulation. He was extremely dissatisfied with
the character and pursuits of his brother, and had made some ineffectual
attempts to reclaim him. But, though they by no means agreed in their
habits of thinking, they sometimes saw each other. Gines loved to boast
of as many of his achievements as he dared venture to mention; and his
brother was one more hearer, in addition to the set of his usual
associates. The printer was amused with the blunt sagacity of remark and
novelty of incident that characterised Gines's conversation. He was
secretly pleased, in spite of all his sober and church-going prejudices,
that he was brother to a man of so much ingenuity and fortitude.
After having listened for some time upon this occasion to the wonderful
stories which Gines, in his rugged way, condescended to tell, the
printer felt an ambition to entertain his brother in his turn. He began
to retail some of my stories of Cartouche and Gusman d'Alfarache. The
attention of Gines was excited. His first emotion was wonder; his second
was envy and aversion. Where did the printer get these stories? This
question was answered. "I will tell you what," said the printer, "we
none of us know what to make of the writer of these articles. He writes
poetry, and morality, and history: I am a printer, and corrector of the
press, and may pretend without vanity to be a tolerably good judge of
these matters: he writes them all to my mind extremely fine; and yet he
is no more than a Jew." [To my honest printer this seemed as strange, as
if they had been written by a Cherokee chieftain at the falls of the
Mississippi.]
"A Jew! How do you know? Did you ever see him?"
"No; the matter is always brought to us by a woman. But my master hates
mysteries; he likes to see his authors himself. So he plagues and
plagues the old woman; but he can never get any thing out of her, except
that one day she happened to drop that the young gentleman was a Jew."
A Jew! a young gentleman! a person who did every thing by proxy, and
made a secret of all his motions! Here was abundant matter for the
speculations and suspicions of Gines. He was confirmed in them, without
adverting to the process of his own mind, by the subject of my
lucubrations,--men who died by the hand of the executioner. He said
little more to his brother, except asking, as if casually, what sort of
an old woman this was? of what age she might be? and whether she often
brought him materials of this kind? and soon after took occasion to
leave him. It was with vast pleasure that Gines had listened to this
unhoped-for information. Having collected from his brother sufficient
hints relative to the person and appearance of Mrs. Marney, and
understanding that he expected to receive something from me the next
day, Gines took his stand in the street early, that he might not risk
miscarriage by negligence. He waited several hours, but not without
success. Mrs. Marney came; he watched her into the house; and after
about twenty minutes delay, saw her return. He dogged her from street
to street; observed her finally enter the door of a private house; and
congratulated himself upon having at length arrived at the consummation
of his labours.
The house she entered was not her own habitation. By a sort of
miraculous accident she had observed Gines following her in the street.
As she went home she saw a woman who had fallen down in a fainting fit.
Moved by the compassion that was ever alive in her, she approached her,
in order to render her assistance. Presently a crowd collected round
them. Mrs. Marney, having done what she was able, once more proceeded
homewards. Observing the crowd round her, the idea of pickpockets
occurred to her mind; she put her hands to her sides, and at the same
time looked round upon the populace. She had left the circle somewhat
abruptly; and Gines, who had been obliged to come nearer, lest he should
lose her in the confusion, was at that moment standing exactly opposite
to her. His visage was of the most extraordinary kind; habit had written
the characters of malignant cunning and dauntless effrontery in every
line of his face; and Mrs. Marney, who was neither philosopher nor
physiognomist, was nevertheless struck. This good woman, like most
persons of her notable character, had a peculiar way of going home, not
through the open streets, but by narrow lanes and alleys, with intricate
insertions and sudden turnings. In one of these, by some accident, she
once again caught a glance of her pursuer. This circumstance, together
with the singularity of his appearance, awakened her conjectures. Could
he be following her? It was the middle of the day, and she could have no
fears for herself. But could this circumstance have any reference to me?
She recollected the precautions and secrecy I practised, and had no
doubt that I had reasons for what I did. She recollected that she had
always been upon her guard respecting me; but had she been sufficiently
so? She thought that, if she should be the means of any mischief to me,
she should be miserable for ever. She determined therefore, by way of
precaution in case of the worst, to call at a friend's house, and send
me word of what had occurred. Having instructed her friend, she went out
immediately upon a visit to a person in the exactly opposite direction,
and desired her friend to proceed upon the errand to me, five minutes
after she left the house. By this prudence she completely extricated me
from the present danger.
Meantime the intelligence that was brought me by no means ascertained
the greatness of the peril. For any thing I could discover in it the
circumstance might be perfectly innocent, and the fear solely proceed
from the over-caution and kindness of this benevolent and excellent
woman. Yet, such was the misery of my situation, I had no choice. For
this menace or no menace, I was obliged to desert my habitation at a
minute's warning, taking with me nothing but what I could carry in my
hand; to see my generous benefactress no more; to quit my little
arrangements and provision; and to seek once again, in some forlorn
retreat, new projects, and, if of that I could have any rational hope, a
new friend. I descended into the street with a heavy, not an irresolute
heart. It was broad day. I said, persons are at this moment supposed to
be roaming the street in search of me: I must not trust to the chance of
their pursuing one direction, and I another. I traversed half a dozen
streets, and then dropped into an obscure house of entertainment for
persons of small expense. In this house I took some refreshment, passed
several hours of active but melancholy thinking, and at last procured a
bed. As soon however as it was dark I went out (for this was
indispensable) to purchase the materials of a new disguise. Having
adjusted it as well as I could during the night, I left this asylum,
with the same precautions that I had employed in former instances.