"The refreshment was intended for fellows of your class, and I am very
glad you accepted it."
The tall man did not answer me, but he again addressed my wife.
"Madam," he said, "if you ladies would remain and listen to me a few
moments, I am sure I would make you aware that there is much to
extenuate the apparent offence which I have committed to-night."
My wife did not answer him, but turning to me said, smiling, "If he
alludes to their drinking your wine he need not apologize."
The man looked at her with an expression as if her words had pained him.
"Madam," he said, "if you consent to listen to my explanations and the
story of this affair, I am sure your feelings toward me would not be so
harsh."
"Now, then," said my Aunt Martha, "if he has a story to tell he ought to
be allowed to tell it, even in a case like this. Nobody should be judged
until he has said what he thinks he ought to say. Let us hear his
story."
I laughed. "Any statement he may make," I said, "will probably deserve a
much stronger name than stories."
"I think that what you say is true," remarked my wife; "but still if he
has a story to tell I should like to hear it."
I think I heard David give a little grunt; but he was too well bred to
say anything.
"Very well," said I, "if you choose to sit up and hear him talk, it is
your affair. I shall be obliged to remain here anyway, and will not
object to anything that will help to pass away the time. But these men
must not be the only ones who are seated. David, you and Alice can clear
away that broken table and the rest of the stuff, and then we might as
well sit down and make ourselves comfortable."
Alice, with cloth and brush, approached very timidly the scene of the
disaster; but the younger burglar, who was nearest to her, gazed upon
her with such a gentle and quiet air that she did not seem to be
frightened. When she and David had put the room in fair order, I placed
two easy-chairs for my wife and Aunt Martha at a moderate distance from
the burglars, and took another myself a little nearer to them, and then
told David to seat himself near the other end of the bench, and Alice
took a chair at a little distance from the ladies.
"Now, then," said Aunt Martha to the burglars, "I would like very much
to hear what any one of you can say in extenuation of having broken into
a gentleman's house by night."
Without hesitation the tall man began his speech. He had a long and
rather lean, close-shaven face, which at present bore the expression of
an undertaker conducting a funeral. Although it was my aunt who had
shown the greatest desire to hear his story, he addressed himself to my
wife. I think he imagined that she was the more influential person of
the two.
"Madam," said he, "I am glad of the opportunity of giving you and your
family an idea of the difficulties and miseries which beset a large
class of your fellow-beings of whom you seldom have any chance of
knowing anything at all, but of whom you hear all sorts of the most
misleading accounts. Now, I am a poor man. I have suffered the greatest
miseries that poverty can inflict. I am here, suspected of having
committed a crime. It is possible that I may be put to considerable
difficulty and expense in proving my innocence."
"I shouldn't wonder," I interrupted. To this remark he paid no
attention.
"Considering all this," he continued, "you may not suppose, madam, that
as a boy I was brought up most respectably and properly. My mother was a
religious woman, and my father was a boat-builder. I was sent to school,
and my mother has often told me that I was a good scholar. But she died
when I was about sixteen, and I am sure had this not happened I should
never have been even suspected of breaking the laws of my country. Not
long after her death my father appeared to lose interest in his
business, and took to rowing about the river instead of building boats
for other people to row. Very often he went out at night, and I used to
wonder why he should care to be on the water in the darkness, and
sometimes in the rain. One evening at supper he said to me: 'Thomas, you
ought to know how to row in the dark as well as in the daytime. I am
going up the river to-night, and you can come with me.'
"It was about my ordinary bedtime when we took a boat with two pair of
oars, and we pulled up the river about three miles above the city."
"What city?" I asked.
"The city where I was born, sir," he said, "and the name of which I must
be excused from mentioning for reasons connected with my only surviving
parent. There were houses on the river bank, but they were not very near
each other. Some of them had lights in them, but most of them were dark,
as it must have been after eleven o'clock. Before one of them my father
stopped rowing for a moment and looked at it pretty hard. It seemed to
be all dark, but as we pulled on a little I saw a light in the back of
the house.
"My father said nothing, but we kept on, though pulling very easy for a
mile or two, and then we turned and floated down with the tide. 'You
might as well rest, Thomas,' said he, 'for you have worked pretty hard.'
"We floated slowly, for the tide was just beginning to turn, and when we
got near the house which I mentioned, I noticed that there was no light
in it. When we were about opposite to it father suddenly looked up and
said, not speaking very loud, 'By George! if that isn't Williamson
Green's house. I wasn't thinking of it when we rowed up, and passed it
without taking notice of it. I am sorry for that, for I wanted to see
Williamson, and now I expect he has gone to bed.'
"'Who is Mr. Green?' I asked.
"'He is an old friend of mine,' said my father, 'and I haven't seen him
for some little while now. About four months ago he borrowed of me a
sextant, quadrant, and chronometer. They were instruments I took from
old Captain Barney in payment of some work I did for him. I wasn't
usin' them, and Williamson had bought a catboat and was studying
navigation; but he has given up that fad now and has promised me over
and over to send me back my instruments, but he has never done it. If
I'd thought of it I would have stopped and got 'em of him; but I didn't
think, and now I expect he has gone to bed. However, I'll row in shore
and see; perhaps he's up yet.'
"You see, ma'am," said the speaker to my wife, "I'm tellin' you all
these particulars because I am very anxious you should understand
exactly how everything happened on this night, which was the
turning-point of my life."
"Very good," said Aunt Martha; "we want to hear all the particulars."
"Well, then," continued the burglar, "we pulled up to a stone wall which
was at the bottom of Green's place and made fast, and father he got out
and went up to the house. After a good while he came back and said that
he was pretty sure Williamson Green had gone to bed, and as it wouldn't
do to waken people up from their sleep to ask them for nautical
instruments they had borrowed, he sat down for a minute on the top of
the wall, and then he slapped his knee, not making much noise, though.
"'By George!' he said, 'an idea has just struck me. I can play the
prettiest trick on Williamson that ever was played on mortal man. Those
instruments are all in a box locked up, and I know just where he keeps
it. I saw it not long ago, when I went to his house to talk about a
yacht he wants built. They are on a table in the comer of his bedroom.
He was taking me through the house to show me the improvements he had
made, and he said to me:--
"'"Martin, there's your instruments. I won't trouble you to take them
with you, because they're heavy and you're not going straight home, but
I'll bring them to you day after to-morrow, when I shall be goin' your
way."
"'Now, then,' said my father, 'the trick I'm thinkin' of playing on
Williamson is this: I'd like to take that box of instruments out of his
room without his knowing it and carry them home, having the boat here
convenient; and then in a day or two to write to him and tell him I must
have 'em, because I have a special use for 'em. Of course he'll be
awfully cut up, not having them to send back; and when he comes down to
my place to talk about it, and after hearing all he has to say, I'll
show him the box. He'll be the most dumbfoundedest man in this State;
and if I don't choose to tell him he'll never know to his dying day how
I got that box. And if he lies awake at night, trying to think how I got
it, it will serve him right for keeping my property from me so long.'
"'But, father,' said I, 'if the people have gone to bed you can't get
into the house to play him your trick.'
"'That can be managed,' says he; 'I'm rather old for climbing myself,
but I know a way by which you, Thomas, can get in easy enough. At the
back of the house is a trellis with a grape-vine running over it, and
the top of it is just under one of the second-story windows. You can
climb up that trellis, Thomas, and lift up that window-sash very
carefully, so's not to make no noise, and get in. Then you'll be in a
back room, with a door right in front of you which opens into Mr. and
Mrs. Green's bedroom. There's always a little night lamp burning in it,
by which you can see to get about. In the corner, on your right as you
go into the room, is a table with my instrument-box standing on it. The
box is pretty heavy, and there is a handle on top to carry it by. You
needn't be afraid to go in, for by this time they are both sound asleep,
and you can pick up the box and walk out as gingerly as a cat, having of
course taken your shoes off before you went in. Then you can hand the
box out the back window to me,--I can climb up high enough to reach
it,--and you can scuttle down, and we'll be off, having the best rig on
Williamson Green that I ever heard of in my born days.'
"I was a very active boy, used to climbing and all that sort of thing,
and I had no doubt that I could easily get into the house; but I did not
fancy my father's scheme.
"'Suppose,' I said, 'that Mr. Williamson Green should wake up and see
me; what could I say? How could I explain my situation?'
"'You needn't say anything,' said my father. 'If he wakes up blow out
the light and scoot. If you happen to have the box in your hand drop it
out the back window and then slip down after it. He won't see us; but
if he does he cannot catch us before we get to the boat; but if he
should, however, I'll have to explain the matter to him, and the joke
will be against me; but I shall get my instruments, which is the main
point, after all.'
"I did not argue with my father, for he was a man who hated to be
differed with, and I agreed to help him carry out his little joke. We
took off our shoes and walked quietly to the back of the house. My
father stood below, and I climbed up the trellis under the back window,
which he pointed out. The window-sash was down all but a little crack to
let in air, and I raised it so slowly and gently that I made no noise.
Then without any trouble at all I got into the room.
"I found myself in a moderate-sized chamber, into which a faint light
came from a door opposite the window. Having been several hours out in
the night my eyes had become so accustomed to darkness that this light
was comparatively strong and I could see everything.
"Looking about me my eyes fell on a little bedstead, on which lay one of
the most beautiful infants I ever beheld in my life. Its golden hair
lay in ringlets upon the pillow. Its eyes were closed, but its soft
cheeks had in them a rosy tinge which almost equalled the colour of its
dainty little lips, slightly opened as it softly breathed and dreamed."
At this point I saw my wife look quickly at the bedroom key she had in
her hand. I knew she was thinking of George William.
"I stood entranced," continued the burglar, "gazing upon this babe, for
I was very fond of children; but I remembered that I must not waste
time, and stepped softly into the next room. There I beheld Mr. and Mrs.
Williamson Green in bed, both fast asleep, the gentleman breathing a
little hard. In a corner, just where my father told me I should find it,
stood the box upon the table.
"But I could not immediately pick it up and depart. The beautiful room
in which I found myself was a revelation to me. Until that moment I had
not known that I had tastes and sympathies of a higher order than might
have been expected of the youthful son of a boat-builder. Those artistic
furnishings aroused within a love of the beautiful which I did not know
I possessed. The carpets, the walls, the pictures, the hangings in the
windows, the furniture, the ornaments,--everything, in fact, impressed
me with such a delight that I did not wish to move or go away.
"Into my young soul there came a longing. 'Oh!' I said to myself, 'that
my parents had belonged to the same social grade as that worthy couple
reposing in that bed; and oh! that I, in my infancy, had been as
beautiful and as likely to be so carefully nurtured and cultured as that
sweet babe in the next room.' I almost heaved a sigh as I thought of the
difference between these surroundings and my own, but I checked myself;
it would not do to made a noise and spoil my father's joke.
"There were a great many things in that luxurious apartment which it
would have delighted me to look upon and examine, but I forbore."
"I wish I'd been there," said the stout man; "there wouldn't have been
any forbearin'."
The speaker turned sharply upon him.
"Don't you interrupt me again," he said angrily. Then, instantly
resuming his deferential tone, he continued the story.
"But I had come there by the command of my parent, and this command must
be obeyed without trifling or loss of time. My father did not approve of
trifling or loss of time. I moved quietly toward the table in the
corner, on which stood my father's box. I was just about to put my hand
upon it when I heard a slight movement behind me. I gave a start and
glanced backward. It was Mr. Williamson Green turning over in his bed;
what if he should awake? His back was now toward me, and my impulse was
to fly and leave everything behind me; but my father had ordered me to
bring the box, and he expected his orders to be obeyed. I had often been
convinced of that.
"I stood perfectly motionless for a minute or so, and when the gentleman
recommenced his regular and very audible breathing I felt it safe to
proceed with my task. Taking hold of the box I found it was much heavier
than I expected it to be; but I moved gently away with it and passed
into the back room.
"There I could not refrain from stopping a moment by the side of the
sleeping babe, upon whose cherub-like face the light of the night lamp
dimly shone. The little child was still sleeping sweetly, and my impulse
was to stop and kiss it; but I knew that this would be wrong. The infant
might awake and utter a cry and my father's joke be spoiled. I moved to
the open window, and with some trouble, and, I think, without any noise,
I succeeded in getting out upon the trellis with the box under my arm.
The descent was awkward, but my father was a tall man, and, reaching
upward, relieved me of my burden before I got to the ground.
"'I didn't remember it was so heavy,' he whispered, 'or I should have
given you a rope to lower it down by. If you had dropped it and spoiled
my instruments, and made a lot of noise besides, I should have been
angry enough.'
"I was very glad my father was not angry, and following him over the
greensward we quickly reached the boat, where the box was stowed away
under the bow to keep it from injury.
"We pushed off as quietly as possible and rowed swiftly down the river.
When we had gone about a mile I suddenly dropped my oar with an
exclamation of dismay.
"'What's the matter?' cried my father.
"'Oh, I have done a dreadful thing!' I said. 'Oh, father, I must go
back!'
"I am sorry to say that at this my father swore.
"'What do you want to go back for?' he said.
"'Just to think of it! I have left open the window in which that
beautiful child was sleeping. If it should take cold and die from the
damp air of the river blowing upon it I should never forgive myself. Oh,
if I had only thought of climbing up the trellis again and pulling down
that sash! I am sure I could go back and do it without making the least
noise.' My father gave a grunt; but what the grunt meant I do not know,
and for a few moments he was silent, and then he said:--
"'Thomas, you cannot go back; the distance is too great, the tide is
against us, and it is time that you and I were both in our beds. Nothing
may happen to that baby; but, attend to my words now, if any harm should
come to that child it will go hard with you. If it should die it would
be of no use for you to talk about practical jokes. You would be held
responsible for its death. I was going to say to you that it might be as
well for you not to say anything about this little venture until I had
seen how Williamson Green took the joke. Some people get angry with very
little reason, although I hardly believe he's that sort of a man; but
now things are different. He thinks all the world of that child, which
is the only one they've got; and if you want to stay outside of jail or
the house of refuge I warn you never to say a word of where you have
been this night.'
"With this he began to row again, and I followed his example, but with a
very heavy heart. All that night I dreamt of the little child with the
damp night winds blowing in upon it."
"Did you ever hear if it caught cold?" asked Aunt Martha.
"No," replied the burglar, "I never did. I mentioned the matter to my
father, and he said that he had great fears upon the subject, for
although he had written to Williamson Green, asking him to return the
instruments, he had not seen him or heard from him, and he was afraid
that the child had died or was dangerously sick. Shortly after that my
father sent me on a little trip to the Long Island coast to collect some
bills from people for whom he had done work. He gave me money to stay a
week or two at the seashore, saying that the change would do me good;
and it was while I was away on this delightful holiday that an event
occurred which had a most disastrous effect upon my future life. My
father was arrested for burglary!
"It appeared--and I cannot tell you how shocked I was when I discovered
the truth--that the box which I had carried away did not contain
nautical instruments, but was filled with valuable plate and jewels. My
unfortunate father heard from a man who had been discharged from the
service of the family whose house he had visited--whose name, by the
way, was not Green--where the box containing the valuables mentioned was
always placed at night, and he had also received accurate information in
regard to the situation of the rooms and the best method of gaining
access to them.
"I believe that some arrangement had been made between my father and
this discharged servant in regard to a division of the contents of the
box, and it was on account of a disagreement on this subject that the
man became very angry, and after pocketing what my father thought was
his fair share he departed to unknown regions, leaving behind a note to
the police which led to my father's arrest."
"That was a mean trick," said Aunt Martha.
The burglar looked at her gratefully.
"In the lower spheres of life, madam, such things often happen. Some of
the plate and jewels were found in my father's possession, and he was
speedily tried and sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. And now,
can you imagine, ladies," said the tall burglar, apparently having
become satisfied to address himself to Aunt Martha, as well as my wife,
"the wretched position in which I found myself? I was upbraided as the
son of a thief. I soon found myself without home, without occupation,
and, alas! without good reputation. I was careful not to mention my
voluntary connection with my father's crime for fear that should I do so
I might be compelled to make a statement which might increase the
severity of his punishment. For this reason I did not dare to make
inquiries concerning the child in whom I had taken such an interest,
and whose little life I had, perhaps, imperilled. I never knew, ladies,
whether that infant grew up or not.
"But I, alas! grew up to a life of hardship and degradation. It would be
impossible for persons in your sphere of life to understand what I now
was obliged to suffer. Suitable employment I could not obtain, because I
was the son of a burglar. With a father in the State prison, it was of
no use for me to apply for employment at any respectable place of
business. I laboured at one thing and another, sometimes engaging in the
most menial employments. I also had been educated and brought up by my
dear mother for a very different career. Sometimes I managed to live
fairly well, sometimes I suffered. Always I suffered from the stigma of
my father's crime, always in the eyes of the community in which I
lived--a community, I am sorry to say, incapable, as a rule, of making
correct judgments in delicate cases like these--I was looked upon as
belonging to the ranks of the dishonest. It was a hard lot, and
sometimes almost impossible to bear up under.
"I have spoken at length, ladies, in order that you may understand my
true position; and I wish to say that I have never felt the crushing
weight of my father's disgrace more deeply than I felt it last evening.
This man," nodding toward the stout burglar, "came to me shortly after I
had eaten my supper, which happened to be a frugal one, and said to
me:--
"'Thomas, I have some business to attend to to-night, in which you can
help me if you choose. I know you are a good mechanic.'
"'If it is work that will pay me,' I answered, 'I should be very glad to
do it, for I am greatly in need of money.'
"'It will pay,' said he; and I agreed to assist him.
"As we were walking to the station, as the business to be attended to
was out of town, this man, whose name is James Barlow, talked to me in
such a way that I began to suspect that he intended to commit a
burglary, and openly charged him with this evil purpose. 'You may call
it burglary or anything else you please,' said he; 'property is very
unequally divided in this world, and it is my business in life to make
wrong things right as far as I can. I am going to the house of a man
who has a great deal more than he needs, and I haven't anything like as
much as I need; and so I intend to take some of his overplus,--not very
much, for when I leave his house he will still be a rich man, and I'll
be a poor one. But for a time my family will not starve.'
"'Argue as you please, James Barlow,' I said, 'what you are going to do
is nothing less than burglary.'
"'Of course it is,' said he; 'but it's all right, all the same. There
are a lot of people, Thomas, who are not as particular about these
things as they used to be, and there is no use for you to seem better
than your friends and acquaintances. Now, to show there are not so many
bigots as there used to be, there's a young man going to meet us at the
station who is greatly interested in the study of social problems. He is
going along with us just to look into this sort of thing and study it.
It is impossible for him to understand people of our class, or do
anything to make their condition better, if he does not thoroughly
investigate their methods of life and action. He's going along just as a
student, nothing more; and he may be down on the whole thing for all I
know. He pays me five dollars for the privilege of accompanying me, and
whether he likes it or not is his business. I want you to go along as a
mechanic, and if your conscience won't let you take any share in the
profit, I'll just pay you for your time.'
"'James Barlow,' said I, 'I am going with you, but for a purpose far
different from that you desire. I shall keep by your side, and if I can
dissuade you from committing the crime you intend I shall do so; but if
I fail in this, and you deliberately break into a house for purposes of
robbery, I shall arouse the inmates and frustrate your crime.' Now,
James Barlow," said he, turning to the stout man with a severe
expression on his strongly marked face, "is not what I have said
perfectly true? Did you not say to me every word which I have just
repeated?"
The stout man looked at the other in a very odd way. His face seemed to
broaden and redden, and he merely closed his eyes as he promptly
answered:--
"That's just what I said, every blasted word of it. You've told it fair
and square, leavin' off nothin' and puttin' in nothin'. You've told the
true facts out and out, up and down, without a break."
"Now, ladies," continued the tall man, "you see my story is
corroborated, and I will conclude it by saying that when this house, in
spite of my protest, had been opened, I entered with the others with the
firm intention of stepping into a hallway or some other suitable place
and announcing in a loud voice that the house was about to be robbed. As
soon as I found the family aroused and my purpose accomplished, I
intended to depart as quickly as possible, for, on account of the shadow
cast upon me by my father's crime, I must never be found even in the
vicinity of criminal action. But as I was passing through this room I
could not resist the invitation of Barlow to partake of the refreshments
which we saw upon the table. I was faint from fatigue and insufficient
nourishment. It seemed a very little thing to taste a drop of wine in a
house where I was about to confer a great benefit. I yielded to the
temptation, and now I am punished. Partaking even that little which did
not belong to me, I find myself placed in my present embarrassing
position."
"You are right there," said I, "it must be embarrassing; but before we
have any more reflections, there are some practical points about which
I wish you would inform me. How did that wicked man, Mr. Barlow I think
you called him, get into this house?"
The tall man looked at me for a moment, as if in doubt what he should
say; and then his expression of mingled hopelessness and contrition
changed into one of earnest frankness.
"I will tell you, sir, exactly," he said; "I have no wish to conceal
anything. I have long wanted to have an opportunity to inform occupants
of houses, especially those in the suburbs, of the insufficiency of
their window fastenings. Familiar with mechanic devices as I am, and
accustomed to think of such things, the precautions of householders
sometimes move me to laughter. Your outer doors, front and back, are of
heavy wood, chained, locked, and bolted, often double locked and bolted;
but your lower windows are closed in the first place by the lightest
kind of shutters, which are very seldom fastened at all, and in the
second place by a little contrivance connecting the two sashes, which is
held in place by a couple of baby screws. If these contrivances are of
the best kind and cannot be opened from the outside with a knife-blade
or piece of tin, the burglar puts a chisel or jimmy under the lower sash
and gently presses it upward, when the baby screws come out as easily as
if they were babies' milk-teeth. Not for a moment does the burglar
trouble himself about the front door, with its locks and chains and
bolts. He goes to the window, with its baby screws, which might as well
be left open as shut, for all the hindrance it is to his entrance; and
if he meddled with the door at all, it is simply to open it from the
inside, so that when he is ready to depart he may do so easily."
"But all that does not apply to my windows," I said. "They are not
fastened that way."
"No, sir," said the man, "your lower shutters are solid and strong as
your doors. This is right, for if shutters are intended to obstruct
entrance to a house they should be as strong as the doors. When James
Barlow first reached this house he tried his jimmy on one of the
shutters in this main building, but he could not open it. The heavy bolt
inside was too strong for him. Then he tried another near by with the
same result. You will find the shutters splintered at the bottom. Then
he walked to the small addition at the back of the house, where the
kitchen is located. Here the shutters were smaller, and of course the
inside bolts were smaller. Everything in harmony. Builders are so
careful now-a-days to have everything in harmony. When Barlow tried his
jimmy on one of these shutters the bolt resisted for a time, but its
harmonious proportions caused it to bend, and it was soon drawn from its
staples and the shutter opened, and of course the sash was opened as I
told you sashes are opened."
"Well," said I, "shutters and sashes of mine shall never be opened in
that way again."
"It was with that object that I spoke to you," said the tall man. "I
wish you to understand the faults of your fastenings, and any
information I can give you which will better enable you to protect your
house, I shall be glad to give, as a slight repayment for the injury I
may have helped to do to you in the way of broken glass and spoiled
carpet. I have made window fastenings an especial study, and, if you
employ me for the purpose, I'll guarantee that I will put your house
into a condition which will be absolutely burglar proof. If I do not do
this to your satisfaction, I will not ask to be paid a cent."
"We will not consider that proposition now," I said, "for you may have
other engagements which would interfere with the proposed job." I was
about to say that I thought we had enough of this sort of story, when
Aunt Martha interrupted me.
"It seems to me," she said, speaking to the tall burglar, "that you have
instincts, and perhaps convictions, of what is right and proper; but it
is plain that you allow yourself to be led and influenced by
unprincipled companions. You should avoid even the outskirts of evil.
You may not know that the proposed enterprise is a bad one, but you
should not take part in it unless you know that it is a good one. In
such cases you should be rigid."
The man turned toward my aunt, and looked steadfastly at her, and as he
gazed his face grew sadder and sadder.
"Rigid," he repeated; "that is hard."
"Yes," I remarked, "that is one of the meanings of the word."