Bail.
The Pilot of Timber Town sat in his dining-room in the many-gabled
house; Captain Sartoris sat opposite him, and both looked as miserable
as men could possibly look.
"It's a bad business, a terrible bad business," said Captain
Summerhayes, "to be charged with robbery and cold-blooded murder. I was
in the Court. I heard the Resident Magistrate commit him to the Supreme
Court. 'Your Worship,' says Jack, 'on what evidence do you commit me? I
own that I was on the road to Canvas Town, but there is nothing wrong in
that: there is no evidence against me.' An' no more there is. I stake
all I've got on his innocence; I stake my life on it."
"Same here, same here, Summerhayes," said Sartoris. "But I don't see how
that helps him. I don't see it helps him worth tuppence. He's still in
the lock-up."
"It helps 'im this much," said the old Pilot: "he can be bailed out,
can't he?--and we're the men to do it."
"We'd need to be made o' money, man. Ten thousand pound wouldn't bail
'im."
"We'll see, we'll see. Rosebud, my gal!" The Pilot's gruff voice
thundered through the house. "We'll put it to the test, Sartoris; we'll
put it to the test."
Rose Summerhayes hurried from the kitchen; the sleeves of her blouse
tucked up, and her hands and arms covered with flour.
"What is it, father?"
"Young Scarlett's in prison," growled the Pilot, "and there he's likely
to stay till the sitting of the Supreme Court."
The pink in Rose's pretty face turned as white as the flour she had been
kneading. "Have they found him guilty, father?"
"Not exactly that, my gal, but it looks black for the lad, as black as
the pit."
"But he's _not_ guilty!" cried the girl. "Nothing will persuade me to
believe that."
"We must bail him out," said her father. "Bring me my deed-box."
Rose rustled from the room, and presently returned with a square,
japanned, tin box, which bore her father's initials upon its lid.
The Pilot took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and quickly unlocked the
box.
Upon the bare, polished table he placed a number of Bank deposit
receipts.
"I can't do it," he said; "no more can Sartoris. But _you_ can, my gal.
Just add up these amounts, Cap'n, while I explain." He handed the
receipts to Sartoris.
"It isn't often I've mentioned your uncle to you, Rosebud. But he's a
rich man, more than ordinary rich, my dear. Ever since you were a little
dot, so high, he's sent me money as reg'lar as the clock. I've never
asked 'im for it, mind ye; and, what's more, I've never spent a penny of
it. I wouldn't touch it, because I don't bear him any love whatever.
Before you was born, my gal, he did me a most unforgivable wrong, an'
he thinks money will wipe it out. But it won't: no, no, it won't.
Howsomever, I banked all that money in your name, as it kept coming in;
and there it's been piling up, till I don't really know how much there
mayn't be. What's the total, Sartoris? Give us the total, man."
But the Captain had forgotten his calculation, in open-mouthed
astonishment.
"'Arf-a-minute, 'arf-a-minute," he said, quickly giving his attention to
the papers which lay before him. "Fifteen hundred and two thousand is
three thousand, five hundred; and thirteen hundred is four thousand,
eight hundred; and seven hundred and seventy-five is---- Why, there's
more money here than ever I saw in a skipper's house before. I'll need a
pencil and a bit o' paper, Miss Rose. There's a mint o' money--as much
as would bail out a duke."
Supplied with stationery, he slowly made his calculation; the Pilot
watching him unconcernedly, and Rose checking the amounts one by one.
At last he found his total, and drew a line under it.
"Well, what is it?" asked the Pilot.
"I make it ten thousand, seven hundred and seventy-five pound," he said.
"Goodness, girl, here's all this money!--and you baking and scrubbing as
if you was a servant. Summerhayes," he added, turning upon the Pilot, "I
think you've been doing an injustice, sir; a gross injustice."
"Personally," replied the Pilot, "I don't intend to receive a pennyworth
o' benefit from that money. If the gal likes to be a lady now, there's
nothing to stop her; but I don't share in the spending o' that money,
not in a penny of it. Of that I'm determined."
"You're a contumacious, cantankerous old barnacle," retorted Sartoris,
"that's what you are. It'd serve you right if your daughter was to cut
the painter and cast you adrift, and leave you to sink or swim."
"We can very well settle that point by and by, Sartoris. The present
question is, Shall we bail out young Scarlett, or not? I put it to you,
Rosebud. Here's all this money--what are you going to do with it? If you
go bail for Scarlett and he runs away, you'll lose it. If he stands his
trial, then you'll get it all back and have the knowledge, I believe,
that you helped an innocent man. Which will you do?"
"I couldn't hesitate," replied Rose. "I'm sure Mr. Scarlett wouldn't
commit such a dreadful crime as that he's charged with. I--I--feel," her
breath caught in her throat, and she gave vent to something very like a
sob, "I should be glad to do anything to get him out of prison."
"Quite right, quite right!" thundered the old Pilot. "There speaks my
gal, Sartoris; there speaks my dar'ter, Rosebud!" Rising from his chair,
he kissed her heartily, and stood, regarding her with pride and
pleasure.
"My dear young lady," said Sartoris, as he took Rose's hand in his, and
warmly pressed it, "it does you great honour. Young Mr. Scarlett an' me
was shipmates; we was wrecked together. I know that lad better than I
know my own brother--and, I say, you may safely back your opinion of him
to any amount."
"Get my hat, gal," said the Pilot. "We'll be going."
And so, after she had hastily performed her toilet, Rose walked into
town, with the two old sea-dogs as an escort.
First, they went to the Kangaroo Bank, where the Pilot placed the sheaf
of deposit receipts on the manager's table, and said, "It comes to
something over ten thousand pound, sir. What we want to know is, will
you allow my dar'ter to draw five or ten thousand, and no questions
asked?"
"Ah--really," said Mr. Tomkinson, "it would be most unusual. These
deposits are made for a term, and the rule of the bank is that they
can't be drawn against."
"Then what is the good of all this money to my gal, if she can't use
it?"
"She can draw it as it falls due."
"But suppose that don't suit? Suppose my dar'ter wants it at once, what
then?"
The manager rubbed his chin: that was his only reply.
"These bits o' paper are supposed to be as good as gold," continued the
Pilot, rustling the receipts as they lay upon the table, "ain't they?"
"Better," said the manager, "in some ways much better."
"Indeed," retorted the Pilot. "Then what's the good o' them, if nothing
can be done with 'em?"
"For the matter o' that, Summerhayes," said Sartoris, "if this gen'leman
don't quite like to trust himself in the matter, there's plenty outside
will take them there bits o' paper as security, and be glad to get 'em.
I've seen the thing done, Summerhayes, though I can't say I've done it
myself, never having had enough money to deposit in a bank."
"Ah--well," said the banker, "of course it _can_ be managed, but you
would lose the interest."
"The interests be--be--the interest be hanged!" exclaimed the Pilot.
"But the young lady must act under no compulsion, sir." Mr. Tomkinson
spoke with a dignity worthy of the great institution which he
represented. "She must do it of her own free will."
"Ask her," said the Pilot.
The manager looked at Rose, who said, "I want to draw seven thousand
pounds of this money," but she felt as though she was speaking in a
dream, so unreal did the situation seem to her.
"The best way for your daughter to act," said the manager, turning to
the Pilot, "will be for her to sign seven thousand pounds' worth of
these receipts over to the bank, and to open in her own name an account,
on which she can draw to the amount specified."
"Very good," said the Pilot, "that would suit; but why couldn't you say
so at first, instead o' boxing the compass?"
The business was soon concluded, and Rose, for the first time in her
life, drew a cheque, which was for nothing less than L7000.
"This is a large sum," said the manager, "a large sum to take in a
lump."
"Isn't it her own money she's taking?" said the Pilot. "I'm her father,
and I don't see anything wrong about it."
"But there her credit ceases," said the manager.
"Let it cease," said the Pilot.
The cheque was cashed at the counter, and Rose walked out of the bank
with a mighty sheaf of notes in her hand.
For safety's sake, the Pilot relieved her of some of her wealth, and
Captain Sartoris relieved her of the rest, and thus the three walked
briskly towards the Red Tape Office. Here, with difficulty and much
climbing up and down stairs and traversing of corridors, they found the
room of the District Judge, who was, in his minor capacity, likewise the
Resident Magistrate.
He was a man of benign countenance, who, after the customary greetings
and explanations had been made, politely asked them to be seated. This
invitation the Pilot neglected to comply with, but, advancing to the
table behind which the Judge sat, he said,
"I believe you have locked up a young man of the name of Scarlett."
"That's so," said the Judge.
"Well, he's a friend o' mine," said the Pilot, "a partic'lar friend."
"Indeed," said the Judge, smiling kindly. "I'm glad that Mr. Scarlett is
not without friends."
"I've a great respect for the Law," continued the Pilot. "I always had,
but that don't make me feel less anxious to help a friend o' mine that's
got into its clutches."
The Judge continued to smile at the Pilot from behind his gold-rimmed
spectacles. "I can quite believe it," he said.
"Cap'n Sartoris," said the Pilot, in his gruffest manner. "Stand up,
sir!"
Sartoris stood.
"Scarlett was your shipmate, Cap'n?" continued the Pilot.
"Certainly he was," answered Sartoris.
"And he was my very good friend, sir," added Summerhayes, turning to the
Judge.
"So you have said," said the Judge.
"Well, we've come to bail him out," said the Pilot; "that's what has
brought us here. How much will it take, Judge?"
"A--really--this is very sudden," replied the Judge. "Er--this
is--ah--most unusual. In fact, I might say that this is quite an
unparalleled case."
"We're plain, sea-faring men," said Sartoris, who felt he was bound to
back up the Pilot, and to say something; "law isn't our strong point."
"Would you consider a matter o' five thousand pound might do it?" asked
the Pilot.
The old Judge leaned over his table, and took up a book.
"Bail?" he said. "Page 249. Listen to this. 'On charges of murder, it
is the uniform practice of Justices not to admit the person charged to
bail; although in point of law, they may have power to do so.' That is
from The Justice of the Peace--it seems perfectly plain."
"You _may_ give bail, but you make a practice of refusing it," commented
the Pilot. "Might I suggest that you set an example to the other
Justices, an' come out strong in the matter o' bail? If you've got power
to make the lot of a well-known citizen a little happier, why not use
it? Hand over them notes, Sartoris."
The Pilot emptied his pockets of all the money that Rose had handed him,
and placed it on the Judge's table, and Sartoris contributed his quota
to the pile.
"There you are, Judge," said the Pilot, pushing all the money towards
the legal magnate, "that should be enough to bail out a Member of the
Legislative Council, or even the Governor himself. That should fix it.
But don't think, Judge, that me and Cap'n Sartoris is doing this thing.
No, sir, it's my dar'ter. She supplies the motive-power that works the
machinery. All this money belongs to her. She it is that wishes to bail
out this young man who, we believe, has been falsely accused."
"Ah--really," said the good old Judge, "I must say--now listen to this:
I have here the newest edition." He took another and bulkier volume from
his table. "Page 66, section 176. Allow me to read. 'The exercise of
discretion with respect to taking of bail for the appearance of an
accused person, where such discretion exists--namely, in all crimes
except treason, being accessory after the fact to treason'----"
"Yes," interrupted the Pilot, "that's the Law, an' very good it is, very
good to them as understands it; but what Sartoris, my dar'ter, and me
want is for you to let this young feller out of gaol till the trial, an'
we'll be responsible."
A perplexed look came over the Judge's face. He took off his glasses,
and wiped them; readjusted them; gave a bewildered look at the Pilot,
and said, "Yes, yes; but listen to what I am reading. The first question
is whether bail ought to be taken at all; the second, what the amount
should be."
"Place it high, Judge," said the Pilot. "We've come prepared for that.
We've come prepared with seven thousand."
"Really, this is most irregular," complained the Judge, his
finger marking the place on the page from which he was reading.
"The--ah--object of bail, that is the amount of bail should be
sufficient to secure the appearance of the accused to answer the
charge." He had found his place, and read on determinedly, "'And it may
be remarked here, that it is not the practice in England, under any
circumstances, to take bail on charges of murder.'"
"Jus' so, Judge," said the Pilot. "Jus' so. It's not the custom in
England. That's as I should ha' thought. But here, where murders don't
occur every day, you may grant it if you like. That's as I thought, just
as I thought. What's your opinion, Cap'n Sartoris?"
"Same here," said Sartoris, tapping his chest. "I'm with you, Pilot;
with you on every point."
"Theoretically, that is so," said the Judge, "but practically, how are
you going to assess bail for a man who is to be tried for his life? What
amount of money will guarantee his reappearance? Why, no sum, however
great."
The Judge shut his book with a snap, and set his mouth firmly as one who
had made up his mind.
"This young man," he continued, "whom I knew and respected as well as
you yourselves, has been accused of most serious crimes. He is said,
with the aid of other persons at present at large, to have murdered the
members of a gold-escort and to have stolen gold to the value of
something like twenty thousand pounds."
The two seamen stood attentively, with their eyes fixed earnestly on the
Judge, whilst Rose covered her face with her hands.
"Besides which,"--the Judge had now regained his judicial composure,
and his words flowed smoothly, as though he were on the bench--"we must
remember that the accused is reputed to be a wealthy man. Supposing him
to have augmented his means by murder and malpractice, what would ten,
twenty or even thirty thousand pounds be to him in comparison with
his life? That is the question. There can be no guarantee of his
reappearance. Bail is impossible. But I will do this: I will extend you
the privilege--seeing your affection for this man, who, for your sakes
as well as his own, I hope may be acquitted--I will allow you leave to
visit him on certain days, between the hours of 10 a.m. and 12 noon, and
I will write an order to that effect."
He looked at Jack's sympathisers, who remained dumb. Dipping his pen in
the ink, he asked them their names in full, and wrote.
Handing each of them an order, he said, "You will present those to the
gaoler when you desire to visit your friend. I may say that I very much
admire the strong affection which you have shown towards one who is
under such a serious charge as that made against the prisoner, John
Scarlett. I wish you good morning."
So saying, he rose from his chair, and, when they had gathered up their
money, ushered them out of the room.