PEACE HAS ANOTHER NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE.
For some considerable time after the death of the Badger, Peace worked
regularly at his trade. Orders came in pretty freely, and as Bessie
Dalton had prognosticated several gentlemen associated with him at the
concert given for the benefit of the weaver’s widow took great
pleasure in recommending him to their friends as a skilful and
reasonable carver and gilder.
Had he chosen to do so he might have established a very good business
in the town of Bradford, but the greed of gain and the spirit of
adventure, as he termed it, was for ever urging him on to commit
lawless acts. Hence it was that steady industry became after a while
distasteful to him.
His course of life presents us with a melancholy picture――cunning,
roguery, wholesale plunder, and reckless bravado. The old adage of
“once a thief always a thief” was exemplified in him.
His thin, firmly compressed lips gave one an impression of a man who,
if put to it, would stick at nothing to gain his ends. There was a
wolfish look about his face, his eyes appeared more like the eyes of a
wild beast than of a human being; he had a good square head and
altogether looked like one who had both the head to plan and the hand
to carry out any villainy on which he had set his heart.
As we have before noted Mrs. Bristow and her husband occupied the
parlours of the house in which Peace lodged. Bristow was a smith by
trade; in addition to this he was a wretch, who drank horribly,
treated his wife――who was a pretty little woman of decent parentage
and belongings――with the greatest brutality.
Drink, it has been observed, is the curse of the British workman; the
fatal propensity has led to the commission of numberless crimes.
Our courts of justice furnish us with a black catalogue of atrocities,
assaults, and murders, committed by habitual and confirmed drunkards.
If the veil could be lifted, and the desolate and miserable home of
the drunkard shown in all their hideous deformity, a picture would be
presented which the most phlegmatic and unimpressionable would shudder
to look upon.
It is a sad reflection that nothing can be done to purge the land of
this terrible scourge.
Bristow had an amiable, forgiving, and patient wife. Her life, since
she had been united to her drunken husband was one of sorrow and
suffering.
She had for her companion, and to a certain extent this was a solace
to her, Bessie Dalton, who on many occasions had sheltered her from
the domestic storm which burst over her defenceless head.
The gentleman who had been the companion of these two women on the
evening of the concert saw them to the door of their residence after
the performance was over.
He took the liberty of calling the next day. He was introduced to
Bristow, who, for a wonder, was perfectly sober, and when in this
state he was a decent, well-behaved man enough.
He was very respectful in his manner, and thanked his visitor for the
kindness and consideration he had displayed in protecting his wife
from the rougher portion of the crowd gathered in the entrance hall.
The interview was but of brief duration; after an exchange of
civilities the stranger took his departure.
And he called several times after this, and saw both Bessie Dalton and
Mr. Bristow.
Ultimately, however, these visits culminated in a scene which we shall
have to describe in a future chapter.
Our more immediate business now is to put the reader in possession of
all the incidents connected with the escapade of our hero.
Peace, as we have already noted, could not comport himself in a
becoming meaner for any great length of time.
He had been looking about for a convenient “crib to crack.” He had, to
use a cant or sporting phrase, “spotted” a large warehouse which stood
at the east end of the town, and had come to the conclusion that there
would be but little difficulty in his effecting an entrance.
The place was left in charge of a night watchman, whose vigilant eye
Peace felt assured he could easily avoid.
It was his custom at this time to wear women’s boots. He had on the
same pair which he made use of when he entered the millowner’s house
at Dudley Hill.
Once in the premises, there would not be much difficulty in
abstracting all valuables which were in any way portable.
He was over-confident on this occasion. He, however, took the
precaution to disguise himself by wearing his false arm and colouring
his face, which presented the appearance of a mulatto.
He was under the full impression, to use another sporting phrase,
“that he would be able to walk over the course.”
The town of Bradford was enveloped in a mist when Peace sallied forth
upon his marauding expedition.
He did not start from his lodgings, but had been for an hour or two at
a quiet respectable coffee-shop. From this place he started upon his
expedition.
There were but a few stragglers in the streets at this time, for the
hour was late, and most of the operatives were fast asleep in their
beds, save a few of the most irreclaimable, who were in the parlours
or skittle-grounds of the public-houses.
In the course of about twenty minutes, or from that time to half an
hour, Peace arrived at the warehouse which he had chosen as the scene
of his operations.
He glanced furtively around.
Not a solitary passenger was in sight.
The warehouse stood in a part of the town where few chance pedestrians
were to be seen even in the busiest part of the day. Now there were
none, and the burglar therefore had it all to himself.
He tried the lock of one of the side doors with more than one of his
skeleton keys, but was not at first successful in shooting back the
bolt.
He was, however, not a man to be easily baffled. On many occasions he
has boastfully displayed to his companions his ability in tampering
with locks of every description.
After some further efforts he managed to turn back the lock. This
done, he gently pushed against the door, which he found was fastened
by a top bolt――the bottom one had evidently not been driven home into
its socket.
He had now but one thing to contend with, this being the top bolt. He
had provided himself with a small piece of flexible steel with a sort
of claw at its end, wherewith to operate on this.
A considerable space of time elapsed before he was enabled to
successfully surmount this difficulty.
At length, however, by patience and perseverance, combined with skill,
he contrived to send back the bolt from the socket by slow degrees.
This done he opened the door, entered, and closed it after him, so
that it might not attract the notice of any of the police.
He found himself in an enormously large apartment, which was more than
a third filled with goods of various descriptions.
The windows of the warehouse were covered with dust and dirt, and the
place was in comparative darkness.
Peace carried no dark lantern with him on this expedition; but he had
provided himself with a box of silent lucifers, which were warranted
to “ignite only on the box.”
He struck one of these, and was about to take his way up the stairs to
make an inspection of the upper portions of the building when, much to
his surprise and chagrin, he was confronted by the night watchman, who
emerged from a wooden hutch in one of the corners of the warehouse.
“You audacious scoundrel!” exclaimed the watchman, springing like a
panther upon Peace, in so sudden a manner that he had no time to elude
the man’s grasp.
“Leave go,” cried Peace, in a voice of concentrated passion; “unhand
me, or it will be worse for you.”
“I’m not going to part with you so easily――you’re my prisoner,”
answered the porter, winding big fingers around the collar. “You’re
caught, my gaol-bird, this time, and no mistake.”
The lighted lucifer had fallen from Peace’s hand upon the first
assault, and the two men were struggling for the mastery in
comparative darkness.
Physically speaking, the watchman was the most powerful of the two,
but he had neither the skill, coolness, nor cunning of his more wary
opponent. The struggle was a short but desperate one.
The burglar tried every feint and dodge to gain an advantage. By a
sudden and adroit movement he tripped up the watchman, who fell on his
back, his antagonist falling upon him at the same moment.
Peace lost no time in making the best use of the advantage gained: he
placed his knee on the man’s chest, and removed his hands from about
his throat.
In another moment the burglar was sent backwards by a well-directed
blow from his antagonist’s clenched fist.
The watchman ran to the door which he opened, then in a stentorian
voice he shouted out――
“Help! Murder! Police――police!”
The cries for assistance were taken up and repeated by one or more
persons in the street.
Peace made for the wide open staircase which he began to ascend
rapidly.
The watchman, perceiving this, gave chase.
The burglar seeing that another struggle was imminent, and being in no
way desirous of risking the chances of a second encounter, had
recourse to a cunning stratagem.
He waited at the top of the first landing for his pursuer who rushed
forward, never for a moment dreaming of the reception that was in
store for him.
Peace waited till the man came within reasonable distance; he then
kicked out with his right leg and struck his pursuer with his foot
full in the face. The latter rolled from the top of the first flight
of stairs to the bottom.
Peace heard strange voices below, which he concluded, naturally
enough, proceeded either from the police or a chance passenger in the
street.
Feeling that he was in a critical position, and that there was now no
possibility of his escaping through the door, by which he had effected
an entrance into the premises, he made at once for the roof.
The warehouse was a five-storied one, and he did not pause until he
had reached the topmost story.
As he had anticipated, he discovered a trap-door, by means of which he
could, in all probability, be able to reach the roof of the building.
He drew some bales of goods underneath the trap, and upon these he
mounted.
The door was fastened on the inside by two bolts. These he endeavoured
to draw back, but they were rusty, and not easily removed.
He heard footsteps ascending the stairs; heard also voices.
Every moment was now precious.
If he could not succeed in drawing back the bolts, his capture was
certain.
[Sidenote: No. 5.]
[Illustration: THE CHASE AFTER PEACE――MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.]
He drew a jemmy from his coat-pocket, and getting a leverage from the
side of the trap, he drew back one bolt; he was enabled now to raise
the trap on one side.
He sprang up from the bales of goods and contrived to pass through the
opening. This done he closed it.
He now found himself on the leads of a flat roof.
The building was immensely high, as most structures of this nature
usually are.
As far as the eye could reach the chimneys and roofs of the houses of
the city lay before him like one vast panorama.
He stood on a dizzy height, from which there did not appear to be any
means of escape.
He began to despair, but a shuffling noise at the trap-door moved him
to further action.
He ran to the extreme end of the roof, and found, much to his delight,
the roofs of houses, some twelve or thirteen feet below.
He looked over the parapet of the warehouse at the roof beneath him.
He cast a furtive glance at the trap, which he discovered was being
removed.
The police were on his track.
Urged almost to desperation, he laid hold of one of the coping stones
of the parapet; he threw his legs and body over, and then for a moment
or so hung in mid air.
To let go and drop on the roof of one of the houses was indeed a
desperate alternative.
But, desperate as it was, he felt that the attempt must be made.
He had by this time gone too far to recede.
He let go his hold of the coping stone, and dropped upon the slanting
tiles of the house beneath.
He alighted with comparative safety.
Sliding down the roof, he gained the gutter which ran round the house.
Then he stooped down and hid himself behind the low wall in front of
the gutter.
By this time the policemen and the night watchman were on the leads of
the warehouse. He knew this, for he heard their voices distinctly in
the night air.
“He’s stepped it,” said the watchman. “He’s given us the slip after
all our trouble, the audacious scoundrel.”
Peace heard these observations, and remained as quiet as possible in
his place of concealment.
“He’s made off over the roofs of those houses,” said one of the police
officers.
“Impossible!” exclaimed the watchman. “No mortal man could reach them
from where we are standing. Oh, no――impossible!”
“You don’t know what these fellows can do,” returned the constable.
“They’re like cats――they’ve got nine lives.”
The speaker flashed his bull’s-eye in all directions, but no burglar
was visible.
Peace was stretched at full length in the gutter, and the low wall in
its front effectually concealed him from observation.
But the situation in which he found himself was in no way a pleasant
one; but he was as cunning and stealthy in his movements as an old
fox.
If he attempted to stir, he knew that discovery was certain.
He, therefore, remained speechless and motionless.
“Have you got such a thing as a ladder?” inquired one of the
constables of the watchman.
“Yes, there is one in the yard. Why?”
“He’s hiding somewhere on the top of yonder houses. We shall nail him
yet, if we can get a ladder.”
“Come down to the yard at once, if you think that,” said the watchman.
“An excellent thought. Come this way.”
The speaker and the two policemen retraced their steps, crept through
the trap-door, and hastened towards the yard in search of the ladder.
Peace heard every word they had spoken, and was thereby apprised of
their movements.
He waited till he felt assured they had left the roof of the
warehouse, then he peeped out from his hiding-place.
Not a soul was to be seen.
Abutting out from the roofs of the row of houses on which he had so
successfully dropped were a number of dormer windows, with
lozenge-shaped panes. Peace crept along the gutter upon his hands and
knees, and tried the first window he came to.
It was fastened. He tried another with the same result.
Presently he discerned, at no very great distance off, the faint
glimmer of a light from an adjacent window. He made for this at once.
He opened it with the greatest care, and crept softly in.
A young and pretty servant girl was partly undressed, and was about to
retire to rest.
She gave utterance to a faint scream as the burglar entered her
sleeping chamber, and modestly covered her neck and shoulders, which
were bare, with a shawl.
“For the love of mercy, how came you here, sir?” she inquired in
evident alarm.
“My dear young lady,” said Peace, in his most persuasive tones, “do
not be alarmed. Take pity on a poor fellow who seeks your protection.”
“Protection, you must be some madman, or else――a――a burglar.”
“I am neither. At the present moment I am in the depths of trouble.
You can save me――you will, I am sure. You have a kind heart――I can see
that by your face, which wears on it a sweet expression. Oh, do take
pity on me!”
He threw himself on his knees before her, and again pleaded in such an
eloquent manner that the young woman was touched.
She hesitated, not very well knowing what answer to make to such an
appeal.
“What trouble are you in, then?” said she.
“I’ve had a dispute, a quarrel; blows have been exchanged, and, if I
cannot escape from the officer who is after me, I’m a ruined
man――ruined for life. You will have compassion on me. You cannot find
it in your heart to refuse your aid to a distressed and afflicted
man.”
“What do you want me to do? If you are discovered here my character
will be lost. Go――go at once, or I will call for assistance!”
“Nay, you cannot mean anything so cruel――I’m sure you cannot!” he
exclaimed, in a beseeching tone.
“Will you go, sir?”
“Yes, if you will only show me the way. This little affair will blow
over in a day or two. Matters can be arranged; but if I fall into the
hands of the police I’m lost. Now do you understand a miserable
fugitive asking you to protest him? You cannot――you will not refuse.”
“How can I protect you?”
“Simply by this. The police are on my track; let me out at the back
door of the house; I can then make my escape. Now do you understand?”
“What have you been doing for the police to be after you?”
“I’ve told you. A quarrel――an assault.”
“You are a very strange man. I do not understand how you came here.”
“I’ll tell you all another time. Show me the way to the back door, and
I will go at once and trouble you no more. Quick, no time is to be
lost. You will do this, and heaven will reward you. But stay――here is
something as a recompense for this little favour.”
He took a sovereign from his pocket, which he handed to the girl.
She drew back indignantly.
“No, sir!” she ejaculated. “I’ll have none of your money.”
“Very well,” he answered; “so be it. Trust me, I shall find the way of
rewarding you some other time. Now let me out.”
“I run great risks. Suppose my master or mistress should hear us
descending the stairs.”
“I will make no noise. They’ll not hear us.”
The girl took the light, and crept softly downstairs. Peace followed.
The back door was soon unfastened, and the burglar imprinted a kiss on
the hand of his benefactress.
“You can jump over the wall at the end of the garden, and reach the
court at the back,” she whispered. “Now go.”
She closed the door and refastened it; then she betook herself to the
window of the back parlour, and saw her strange visitor jump over the
wall into a neighbour’s garden. He then climbed another wall, and
gained a side street beyond.
“Oh, gracious goodness! how glad I am he’s got off. What an
extraordinary man!” she ejaculated.
“Poor soul, he seemed in the depths of trouble, I shall learn
something more about the affair in the morning, I’ll dare be sworn.”
She crept softly up the stairs and reached her own room without
disturbing any of the other inmates of the house.
Meanwhile the police officers had obtained the ladder from the
adjoining yard; this they reared against the side of one of the houses
which was in close proximity to the warehouse from which Peace had so
successfully escaped.
The constables ascended the ladder, clambered over the roofs of the
houses, but as the reader may readily imagine, they were in no may
successful in obtaining sight of the fugitive, who by this time was
far away from the scene of action.
The policemen were much disconcerted, but were, however, not at all
disposed to give up the search without further efforts.
They observed the glimmer of the light from the window of the servant
girl’s room; the latter had by this time returned to her apartment in
the roof, and was preparing for bed when she was startled by a loud
rap at the window.
“Who’s there, and what do you want?” said she, in breathless accents.
“Open the casement――a burglar is in the house. Open at once!”
“Don’t be afraid, girl; we belong to the police.”
“But I am very much afraid, and that’s the truth,” returned she,
unfastening the window and throwing it wide open. “Good kind
gentlemen, for the love of mercy tell me what’s the matter?”
The constables made no reply, but sprang into the room. The girl drew
back in undisguised alarm.
“It’s most disgraceful to force an entrance into my bedroom――that’s
what it is,” she ejaculated petulantly.
“Now, young woman,” said one of the constables. “Answer me truthfully.
Have you seen a man making his way over the roof?”
“Certainly not, with the exception of you and your companion; you are
the only persons I have seen.”
“No one has been here.”
“Why, goodness me, no. Haven’t I told you so already?”
“You’re quite sure of that?”
“Quite sure.”
The policemen glanced round the apartment, looked under the bed, in
the cupboard, and, in short, everywhere they could think of.
“Strange!” ejaculated policeman No. 1.
“Most remarkable,” returned No. 2. “Where can he be hiding?”
“Can’t possibly tell.” Then, turning to the girl, he said, “Hark ye,
young woman, a burglary has been committed in the adjoining warehouse;
the robber has escaped, and we have reasons for believing that he has
sought shelter in this house.”
“A burglary!” exclaimed the girl, giving utterance to a loud scream.
“What have I done that I should be treated thus?” Having said this she
burst into tears.
The door of the bedroom was opened, and a tall gentleman, with a thick
grey moustache, appeared with a drawn sword in his hand. He had
hastily huddled on his clothes, and was swathed in a long
dressing-gown.
For the rest his countenance was indicative of rage and indignation.
He was a retired Indian officer.
“What is this noise and altercation about?” cried the half-pay
captain, regarding the constables with a malevolent look. “How is this
that the sanctity of my private abode is thus violated? Speak! Dost
thou hear?”
One of the policemen briefly explained the particulars of the
attempted burglary, and the remarkable escape of the robber.
“You have exceeded your duty. How dare you enter the maid’s bedroom in
this precipitate――this, ahem! unseemly manner? Do you suppose for one
moment that anyone belonging to my establishment would harbour
burglars? I say you have gone beyond all reasonable limits; and, ahem!
I tell you frankly, that the matter shall not rest here. An
Englishman’s house is his castle, and it is not to be invaded by the
officers of the law, without――I say without a reasonable excuse.”
“I hope we have a reasonable excuse, sir.”
“I say you have not; don’t contradict me, man, I will not condescend
to bandy words with you. This matter shall be inquired into.”
“What is your number?”
“46 T.”
“Good, and yours?” he enquired, turning to the other.
“49 T. But will you allow me to explain――――”
“No, no. I will not. I don’t want any explanation now. At a proper
time and in a proper place you will have to account for this
scandalous behaviour――forcibly entering a young girl’s bedroom upon
such a shallow pretext. I say it does not admit of explanation. I will
answer for the honesty and integrity of this girl――let that suffice.
Zounds! gunpowder and smoke, I am perfectly astounded at your
audacity!”
46 T said he was exceedingly sorry that there should have been any
misunderstanding, but they thought it probable the thief might have
been seen passing the window.
“Ridiculous, positively absurd,” ejaculated the choleric captain. “You
are a pair of blundering idiots. The thief, if there be one, which I
do not for a moment admit, would not be fool enough to enter a
respectable house and arouse the inmates in his endeavour to escape.
The idea is perfectly preposterous.”
“It is most unfortunate that you view the matter in this light,” said
46 T, “and I deeply regret that we should have offended you, sir, but
it has been done in the exercise of our duty.”
“Duty be hanged! A pretty story truly, that you are to disturb people
in the dead hours of the night, wake them from their peaceful
slumbers, frighten the maid almost into hysterics upon the miserable
plea that you thought the robber might have sought shelter here. I
tell you, sir, that the very thought of such a thing is insulting to
me and to all who dwell in this house.”
While this altercation had been going on the girl had seated herself
on the edge of the bed and gave utterance to a series of sobs and
hysterical cries.
“Don’t you worry yourself, Mary. You’ve done nothing wrong, my poor
girl,” said her master, in a kind tone of voice. “You’ve nothing to be
ashamed of, or indeed to be alarmed at. Dry your eyes, girl, and be of
good cheer.”
“I’m sure――I――ha――ven’t done anyone an――in――jury――and I don’t know why
I should be treated like this.”
“Don’t fret yourself; nobody blames you,” returned her master. “The
righteous have naught to fear.”
The captain strode towards the window, which he closed and fastened.
He then threw up the shutters. This done, he turned towards the two
constables, and said, as he approached the door――
“This way, if you please. It would be idle to prolong this scene. The
maid wants to seek repose. She has been kept up later than usual, in
consequence of a few visitors we’ve had this evening. You will,
therefore, please follow me.”
The two policemen obeyed. The master of the house closed the door of
the bedroom, and, with a light in one hand and a sword in the other,
he led the way into a room below.
“Now, gentlemen” (he emphasised this last expression), “since you have
taken upon yourselves to enter my premises as trespassers――I cannot
call you anything else――I do not desire to part with you without first
of all seeing that you search every room in the house.”
The constables felt that they had made a great mistake; this fact they
were forcibly impressed with, and they were seriously concerned at the
issue.
“We don’t desire to search――” stammered out one.
“I insist!” interrupted the captain. “There is now an imperative
necessity for your doing so, and, further than that, I insist as a
satisfaction to all parties.”
The officers bowed. They were conducted by their guide into one room
after the other. It is, perhaps, needless to say that everything was
in the same order as when the occupants of the habitation had retired
for the night.
Nothing was disturbed. There was not the faintest indication of any
stranger or robber having entered the premises.
“You will, I’m sure, pardon us,” observed one of the policemen. “We
feel now that we have been too precepitate; but I hope you will
consider, sir, that the reason for our being so was a desire to
further the ends of justice. Mistakes will occur with the best and
most cautious constable. I trust you will accept our apology, and say
no more about this error――for error it most assuredly is.”
The captain was choleric, impetuous, but he was not vindictive. His
anger passed away, and he was the chivalrous, generous, high-minded
officer whom his worst enemies acknowledged to be a gentleman.
“Enough!” he observed. “You have been greatly mistaken, and I confess
that I was greatly incensed, but that is over now. I am not the man to
do anyone an injury for being over zealous in the discharge of what
they deem their duty. You are satisfied that there is no robber
lurking about here――I am satisfied that you did not mean to give
offence; so let the matter be forgotten. Certainly it shall not be
made public by me.”
“We thank you, sir, most sincerely for your kindness and
consideration,” exclaimed both constables. “We thank you again and
again.”
The gallant officer unbarred the front door of his habitation, bowed
courteously to his companions, who returned the salutation, and passed
into the house.
“We have made a pretty muddle of this business,” said one of the
constables, to his companion; “what I call a regular muddle. It’s
lucky the old gentleman cooled down. I thought he meant reporting us.”
“So he did at first, but he thought better of it.”
“Ah! he’s haughty, but he’s a gentleman. But as to that slippery
customer, how he has got clear off will, I fear, remain a mystery.”
The policemen went back for the ladder, which they replaced in the
yard.
The night watchman remained outside of the captain’s house, near by
for the constables, who, of course, informed him of all that had
passed therein.
The watchman was in no very good humour; he was suffering from the
effects of the kick he had received from Peace while ascending the
stairs.
Every bone in his body ached. In addition to this he found that his
right ankle was sprained――so, taken altogether, he was in no enviable
plight.