The reader of the foregoing pages has doubtless asked himself, "what isthe link which binds together John Rex and Sarah Purfoy?"
In the year 1825 there lived at St. Heliers, Jersey, an old watchmaker,named Urban Purfoy. He was a hard-working man, and had amassed a littlemoney--sufficient to give his grand-daughter an education above thecommon in those days. At sixteen, Sarah Purfoy was an empty-headed,strong-willed, precocious girl, with big brown eyes. She had a badopinion of her own sex, and an immense admiration for the young andhandsome members of the other. The neighbours said that she was toohigh and mighty for her rank in life. Her grandfather said she was a"beauty", and like her poor dear mother. She herself thought rathermeanly of her personal attractions, and rather highly of her mentalones. She was brimful of vitality, with strong passions, and littlereligious sentiment. She had not much respect for moral courage, forshe did not understand it; but she was a profound admirer of personalprowess. Her distaste for the humdrum life she was leading foundexpression in a rebellion against social usages. She courted notorietyby eccentricities of dress, and was never so happy as when she wasmisunderstood. She was the sort of girl of whom women say--"It is a pityshe has no mother"; and men, "It is a pity she does not get a husband";and who say to themselves, "When shall I have a lover?" There was nolack of beings of this latter class among the officers quartered in FortRoyal and Fort Henry; but the female population of the island was freeand numerous, and in the embarrassment of riches, Sarah was overlooked.Though she adored the soldiery, her first lover was a civilian. Walkingone day on the cliff, she met a young man. He was tall, well-looking,and well-dressed. His name was Lemoine; he was the son of a somewhatwealthy resident of the island, and had come down from London to recruithis health and to see his friends. Sarah was struck by his appearance,and looked back at him. He had been struck by hers, and looked backalso. He followed her, and spoke to her--some remark about the windor the weather--and she thought his voice divine. They got intoconversation--about scenery, lonely walks, and the dullness of St.Heliers. "Did she often walk there?" "Sometimes." "Would she be theretomorrow?" "She might." Mr. Lemoine lifted his hat, and went back todinner, rather pleased with himself.
They met the next day, and the day after that. Lemoine was not agentleman, but he had lived among gentlemen, and had caught something oftheir manner. He said that, after all, virtue was a mere name, and thatwhen people were powerful and rich, the world respected them more thanif they had been honest and poor. Sarah agreed with this sentiment. Hergrandfather was honest and poor, and yet nobody respected him--at least,not with such respect as she cared to acknowledge. In addition to histalent for argument, Lemoine was handsome and had money--he showed herquite a handful of bank-notes one day. He told her of London and thegreat ladies there, and hinting that they were not always virtuous, drewhimself up with a moody air, as though he had been unhappily the causeof their fatal lapse into wickedness. Sarah did not wonder at this inthe least. Had she been a great lady, she would have done the same. Shebegan to coquet with this seductive fellow, and to hint to him thatshe had too much knowledge of the world to set a fictitious value uponvirtue. He mistook her artfulness for innocence, and thought he had madea conquest. Moreover, the girl was pretty, and when dressed properly,would look well. Only one obstacle stood in the way of their loves--thedashing profligate was poor. He had been living in London above hismeans, and his father was not inclined to increase his allowance.
Sarah liked him better than anybody else she had seen, but there aretwo sides to every bargain. Sarah Purfoy must go to London. In vain herlover sighed and swore. Unless he would promise to take her away withhim, Diana was not more chaste. The more virtuous she grew, the morevicious did Lemoine feel. His desire to possess her increased inproportionate ratio to her resistance, and at last he borrowed twohundred pounds from his father's confidential clerk (the Lemoines weremerchants by profession), and acceded to her wishes. There was no loveon either side--vanity was the mainspring of the whole transaction.Lemoine did not like to be beaten; Sarah sold herself for a passage toEngland and an introduction into the "great world".
We need not describe her career at this epoch. Suffice it to say thatshe discovered that vice is not always conducive to happiness, and isnot, even in this world, so well rewarded as its earnest practice mightmerit. Sated, and disappointed, she soon grew tired of her life, andlonged to escape from its wearying dissipations. At this juncture shefell in love.
The object of her affections was one Mr. Lionel Crofton. Crofton wastall, well made, and with an insinuating address. His features were toostrongly marked for beauty. His eyes were the best part of his face,and, like his hair, they were jet black. He had broad shoulders, sinewylimbs, and small hands and feet. His head was round, and well-shaped,but it bulged a little over the ears which were singularly small and layclose to his head. With this man, barely four years older than herself,Sarah, at seventeen, fell violently in love. This was the more strangeas, though fond of her, he would tolerate no caprices, and possessedan ungovernable temper, which found vent in curses, and even blows. Heseemed to have no profession or business, and though he owned a goodaddress, he was even less of a gentleman than Lemoine. Yet Sarah,attracted by one of the strange sympathies which constitute the romanceof such women's lives, was devoted to him. Touched by her affection,and rating her intelligence and unscrupulousness at their true value, hetold her who he was. He was a swindler, a forger, and a thief, andhis name was John Rex. When she heard this she experienced a sinisterdelight. He told her of his plots, his tricks, his escapes, hisvillainies; and seeing how for years this young man had preyed upon theworld which had deceived and disowned her, her heart went out to him. "Iam glad you found me," she said. "Two heads are better than one. We willwork together."
John Rex, known among his intimate associates as Dandy Jack, wasthe putative son of a man who had been for many years valet to LordBellasis, and who retired from the service of that profligate noblemanwith a sum of money and a wife. John Rex was sent to as good a school ascould be procured for him, and at sixteen was given, by the interestof his mother with his father's former master, a clerkship in anold-established city banking-house. Mrs. Rex was intensely fond of herson, and imbued him with a desire to shine in aristocratic circles. Hewas a clever lad, without any principle; he would lie unblushingly, andsteal deliberately, if he thought he could do so with impunity. He wascautious, acquisitive, imaginative, self-conceited, and destructive. Hehad strong perceptive faculties, and much invention and versatility, buthis "moral sense" was almost entirely wanting. He found that his fellowclerks were not of that "gentlemanly" stamp which his mother thought soadmirable, and therefore he despised them. He thought he should like togo into the army, for he was athletic, and rejoiced in feats of muscularstrength. To be tied all day to a desk was beyond endurance. But JohnRex, senior, told him to "wait and see what came of it." He did so, andin the meantime kept late hours, got into bad company, and forged thename of a customer of the bank to a cheque for twenty pounds. The fraudwas a clumsy one, and was detected in twenty-four hours. Forgeries byclerks, however easily detected, are unfortunately not considered toadd to the attractions of a banking-house, and the old-established firmdecided not to prosecute, but dismissed Mr. John Rex from their service.The ex-valet, who never liked his legalized son, was at first forturning him out of doors, but by the entreaties of his wife, was at lastinduced to place the promising boy in a draper's shop, in the City Road.
This employment was not a congenial one, and John Rex planned to leaveit. He lived at home, and had his salary--about thirty shillings aweek--for pocket money. Though he displayed considerable skill with thecue, and not infrequently won considerable sums for one in his position,his expenses averaged more than his income; and having borrowed allhe could, he found himself again in difficulties. His narrow escape,however, had taught him a lesson, and he resolved to confess all to hisindulgent mother, and be more economical for the future. Just thenone of those "lucky chances" whic
h blight so many lives occurred. The"shop-walker" died, and Messrs. Baffaty & Co. made the gentlemanly Rexact as his substitute for a few days. Shop-walkers have opportunitiesnot accorded to other folks, and on the evening of the third day Mr. Rexwent home with a bundle of lace in his pocket. Unfortunately, he owedmore than the worth of this petty theft, and was compelled to stealagain. This time he was detected. One of his fellow-shopmen caughthim in the very act of concealing a roll of silk, ready for futureabstraction, and, to his astonishment, cried "Halves!" Rex pretended tobe virtuously indignant, but soon saw that such pretence was useless;his companion was too wily to be fooled with such affectation ofinnocence. "I saw you take it," said he, "and if you won't share I'lltell old Baffaty." This argument was irresistible, and they shared.Having become good friends, the self-made partner lent Rex a helpinghand in the disposal of the booty, and introduced him to a purchaser.The purchaser violated all rules of romance by being--not a Jew, but avery orthodox Christian. He kept a second-hand clothes warehouse inthe City Road, and was supposed to have branch establishments all overLondon.
Mr. Blicks purchased the stolen goods for about a third of their value,and seemed struck by Mr. Rex's appearance. "I thort you was a swellmobsman," said he. This, from one so experienced, was a high compliment.Encouraged by success, Rex and his companion took more articles ofvalue. John Rex paid off his debts, and began to feel himself quite a"gentleman" again. Just as Rex had arrived at this pleasing state ofmind, Baffaty discovered the robbery. Not having heard about the bankbusiness, he did not suspect Rex--he was such a gentlemanly youngman--but having had his eye for some time upon Rex's partner, who wasvulgar, and squinted, he sent for him. Rex's partner stoutly denied theaccusation, and old Baffaty, who was a man of merciful tendencies, andcould well afford to lose fifty pounds, gave him until the nextmorning to confess, and state where the goods had gone, hinting at thepersuasive powers of a constable at the end of that time. The shopman,with tears in his eyes, came in a hurry to Rex, and informed him thatall was lost. He did not want to confess, because he must implicatehis friend Rex, but if he did not confess he would be given in charge.Flight was impossible, for neither had money. In this dilemma John Rexremembered Blicks's compliment, and burned to deserve it. If he mustretreat, he would lay waste the enemy's country. His exodus shouldbe like that of the Israelites--he would spoil the Egyptians. Theshop-walker was allowed half an hour in the middle of the day for lunch.John Rex took advantage of this half-hour to hire a cab and drive toBlicks. That worthy man received him cordially, for he saw that he wasbent upon great deeds. John Rex rapidly unfolded his plan of operations.The warehouse doors were fastened with a spring. He would remain behindafter they were locked, and open them at a given signal. A light cart orcab could be stationed in the lane at the back, three men could fillit with valuables in as many hours. Did Blicks know of three such men?Blicks's one eye glistened. He thought he did know. At half-past eleventhey should be there. Was that all? No. Mr. John Rex was not going to"put up" such a splendid thing for nothing. The booty was worth at leastL5,000 if it was worth a shilling--he must have L100 cash when the cartstopped at Blicks's door. Blicks at first refused point blank. Letthere be a division, but he would not buy a pig in a poke. Rex was firm,however; it was his only chance, and at last he got a promise of L80.That night the glorious achievement known in the annals of Bow Streetas "The Great Silk Robbery" took place, and two days afterwards John Rexand his partner, dining comfortably at Birmingham, read an account ofthe transaction--not in the least like it--in a London paper.
John Rex, who had now fairly broken with dull respectability, bid adieuto his home, and began to realize his mother's wishes. He was, after hisfashion, a "gentleman". As long as the L80 lasted, he lived inluxury, and by the time it was spent he had established himself inhis profession. This profession was a lucrative one. It was that of aswindler. Gifted with a handsome person, facile manner, and ready wit,he had added to these natural advantages some skill at billiards, someknowledge of gambler's legerdemain, and the useful consciousness that hemust prey or be preyed on. John Rex was no common swindler; his naturalas well as his acquired abilities saved him from vulgar errors. He sawthat to successfully swindle mankind, one must not aim at comparative,but superlative, ingenuity. He who is contented with being only clevererthan the majority must infallibly be outwitted at last, and to be onceoutwitted is--for a swindler--to be ruined. Examining, moreover, intothe history of detected crime, John Rex discovered one thing. At thebottom of all these robberies, deceptions, and swindles, was some luckyfellow who profited by the folly of his confederates. This gave himan idea. Suppose he could not only make use of his own talents to robmankind, but utilize those of others also? Crime runs through infinitegrades. He proposed to himself to be at the top; but why should hedespise those good fellows beneath him? His speciality was swindling,billiard-playing, card-playing, borrowing money, obtaining goods, neverrisking more than two or three coups in a year. But others plunderedhouses, stole bracelets, watches, diamonds--made as much in a night ashe did in six months--only their occupation was more dangerous. Now camethe question--why more dangerous? Because these men were mere clods,bold enough and clever enough in their own rude way, but no matchfor the law, with its Argus eyes and its Briarean hands. They did therougher business well enough; they broke locks, and burst doors, and"neddied" constables, but in the finer arts of plan, attack, and escape,they were sadly deficient. Good. These men should be the hands; he wouldbe the head. He would plan the robberies; they should execute them.
Working through many channels, and never omitting to assist afellow-worker when in distress, John Rex, in a few years, and in a mostprosaic business way, became the head of a society of ruffians. Mixingwith fast clerks and unsuspecting middle-class profligates, he found outparticulars of houses ill guarded, and shops insecurely fastened, and"put up" Blicks's ready ruffians to the more dangerous work. In hisvarious disguises, and under his many names, he found his way into thoseupper circles of "fast" society, where animals turn into birds, where awolf becomes a rook, and a lamb a pigeon. Rich spendthrifts who affectedmale society asked him to their houses, and Mr. Anthony Croftonbury,Captain James Craven, and Mr. Lionel Crofton were names remembered,sometimes with pleasure, oftener with regret, by many a broken manof fortune. He had one quality which, to a man of his profession,was invaluable--he was cautious, and master of himself. Having madea success, wrung commission from Blicks, rooked a gambling ninny likeLemoine, or secured an assortment of jewellery sent down to his "wife"in Gloucestershire, he would disappear for a time. He liked comfort, andrevelled in the sense of security and respectability. Thus he had livedfor three years when he met Sarah Purfoy, and thus he proposed to livefor many more. With this woman as a coadjutor, he thought he could defythe law. She was the net spread to catch his "pigeons"; she was thewell-dressed lady who ordered goods in London for her husband atCanterbury, and paid half the price down, "which was all this letterauthorized her to do," and where a less beautiful or clever woman mighthave failed, she succeeded. Her husband saw fortune before him,and believed that, with common prudence, he might carry on his mostlucrative employment of "gentleman" until he chose to relinquish it.Alas for human weakness! He one day did a foolish thing, and the law hehad so successfully defied got him in the simplest way imaginable.
Under the names of Mr. and Mrs. Skinner, John Rex and Sarah Purfoywere living in quiet lodgings in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury.Their landlady was a respectable poor woman, and had a son who was aconstable. This son was given to talking, and, coming in to supper onenight, he told his mother that on the following evening an attack wasto be made on a gang of coiners in the Old Street Road. The mother,dreaming all sorts of horrors during the night, came the next day toMrs. Skinner, in the parlour, and, under a pledge of profound secrecy,told her of the dreadful expedition in which her son was engaged. JohnRex was out at a pigeon match with Lord Bellasis, and when he returned,at nine o'clock, Sarah told him what she had heard.
; Now, 4, Bank-place, Old Street Road, was the residence of a man namedGreen, who had for some time carried on the lucrative but dangeroustrade of "counterfeiting". This man was one of the most daring of thatarmy of ruffians whose treasure chest and master of the mint was Blicks,and his liberty was valuable. John Rex, eating his dinner more nervouslythan usual, ruminated on the intelligence, and thought it would bebut wise to warn Green of his danger. Not that he cared much forGreen personally, but it was bad policy to miss doing a good turn toa comrade, and, moreover, Green, if captured might wag his tongue toofreely. But how to do it? If he went to Blicks, it might be too late; hewould go himself. He went out--and was captured. When Sarah heard of thecalamity she set to work to help him. She collected all her money andjewels, paid Mrs. Skinner's rent, went to see Rex, and arrangedhis defence. Blicks was hopeful, but Green--who came very nearhanging--admitted that the man was an associate of his, and theRecorder, being in a severe mood, transported him for seven years. SarahPurfoy vowed that she would follow him. She was going as passenger,as emigrant, anything, when she saw Mrs. Vickers's advertisement for a"lady's-maid," and answered it. It chanced that Rex was shipped in theMalabar, and Sarah, discovering this before the vessel had been a weekat sea, conceived the bold project of inciting a mutiny for the rescueof her lover. We know the result of that scheme, and the story of thescoundrel's subsequent escape from Macquarie Harbour.
CHAPTER IV. "THE NOTORIOUS DAWES."
For the Term of His Natural Life Page 34