"I'm not guilty."
"You reserve your defence, then?"
"Tell him yes," said the policeman.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, then. I shall remand you for three days. Bring him up
again on Friday."
And the magistrate took up his newspaper, the clerk at the table laying
down his pen; the bustle and shuffling of feet filled the room, and in
another moment Reginald was down the staircase, and the voice he had
heard before called,--
"Remand three days. Now then, Grinder, up you go--"
In all his conjectures as to what might befall him, the possibility of
being actually sent to prison had never entered Reginald's head. That
he would be suspected, arrested, taken to the police-station, and
finally brought before a magistrate, he had foreseen. That was bad
enough, but he had steeled his resolution to the pitch of going through
with it, sure that the clearing of his character would follow any
inquiry into the case.
But to be lodged for three days as a common felon in a police cell was a
fate he had not once realised, and which, when its full meaning broke
upon him, crushed the spirit out of him.
He made no resistance, no protest, no complaint as they hustled him back
into the van, and from the van to the cell which was to be his dreary
lodging for those three days. He felt degraded, dishonoured, disgraced,
and as he sat hour after hour brooding over his lot, his mind, already
overwrought, lost its courage and let go its hope.
Suppose he really had done something to be ashamed of? Suppose he had
all along had his vague suspicions of the honesty of the Corporation,
and yet had continued to serve them? Suppose, with the best of
intentions, he had shut his eyes wilfully to what he might and must have
seen? Suppose, in fact, his negligence had been criminal? How was he
ever to hold up his head again and face the world like an honest man,
and say he had defrauded no man?
And then there came up in terrible array that long list of customers to
the Corporation whom he had lured and enticed by promises he had never
taken the trouble to inquire into to part with their money. And the
burden of their loss lay like an incubus on his spirit, till he actually
persuaded himself he was guilty.
I need not sadden the reader with dwelling on the misery of those three
days. Any one almost could have endured them better than Reginald. He
began a letter to Horace, but he tore it up when half-written. He drew
up a statement of his own defence, but when fact after fact appeared in
array on the paper it seemed more like an indictment than a defence, and
he tore it up too.
At length the weary suspense was over, and once more he found himself in
the outer air, stepping with almost familiar tread across the pavement
into the van, and taking his place among the waiters in the dim lobby at
the foot of the police-court stairs.
When at last he stood once more in the dock none of his former
bewilderment remained to befriend him. It was all too real this time.
When some one spoke of the "prisoner" he knew it meant himself, and when
they spoke of fraud he knew they referred to something he had done. Oh,
that he could see it all in a dream once more, and wake up to find
himself on the other side!
"Now, Mr Sniff, you've got something to say?" said the magistrate.
"Yes, your worship," replied Mr Sniff, not moving to the witness-box,
but speaking from his seat. "We don't propose to continue this case."
"What? It's a clear case, isn't it?" said the magistrate, with the air
of a man who is being trifled with.
"No, your worship. There's not evidence enough to ask you to send the
prisoner to trial."
"Then I'd better sentence him myself."
"I think not, your worship. Our evidence only went to show that the
prisoner was in the employment of the men who started the company. But
we have no evidence that he was aware that the concern was fraudulent,
and as he does not appear to have appropriated any of the money, we
advise dismissing the case. The real offenders are in custody, and have
practically admitted their guilt."
The magistrate looked very ill-tempered and offended. He did not like
being told what he was told, especially by the police, and he had a
righteous horror of cases being withdrawn from his authority.
He held a snappish consultation with his clerk, which by no means tended
to pacify him, for that functionary whispered his opinion that as the
case had been withdrawn there was nothing for it but for his worship to
dismiss the case.
Somebody, at any rate, should smart for his injured feelings, and as he
did not know law enough to abuse Mr Sniff, and had not pretext
sufficient to abuse his clerk, he gathered himself for a castigation of
the prisoner, which should not only serve as a caution to that youth for
his future guidance, but should also relieve his own magisterial mind.
"Now, prisoner," began he, setting his spectacles and leaning forward in
his seat, "you've heard what the officer has said. You may consider
yourself fortunate--very fortunate--there is not enough evidence to
convict you. Don't flatter yourself that a breakdown in the prosecution
clears your character. In the eyes of the law you may be clear, but
morally, let me tell you, you are far from being so. It's affectation
to tell me you could live for three months the centre of a system of
fraud and yet have your hands clean. You must make good your account
between your own conscience and the hundreds of helpless, unfortunate
poor men and women you have been the means of depriving of their hard-
earned money. You have already been kept in prison for three days. Let
me hope that will be a warning to you not to meddle in future with
fraud, if you wish to pass as an honest man. If you touch pitch, sir,
you must expect to be denied. Return to paths of honesty, young man,
and seek to recover the character you have forfeited, and bear in mind
the warning you have had, if you wish to avoid a more serious stain in
the future. The case is dismissed."
With which elegant peroration the magistrate, much relieved in his own
mind, took up his newspaper, and Reginald was hurried once more down
those steep stairs a free man.
"Slice of luck for you, young shaver!" said the friendly policeman,
slipping off the handcuffs.
"Regular one of Sniff's little games!" said another standing near; "he
always lets his little fish go when he's landed his big ones! To my
mind it's a risky business. Never mind."
"You can go when you like now," said the policeman to Reginald; "and
whenever we come across a shilling for a drink we'll drink your health,
my lad."
Reginald saw the hint, and handed the policeman one of his last
shillings. Then, buttoning his coat against the cold winter wind, he
walked out, a free man, into the street.