The Orange Girl

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE END OF THE CONSPIRACY

  The trial of our four friends for conspiracy took place in the middle ofJanuary. For my own part, I had to relate in open Court the wholehistory with which you are already acquainted: the clause in my father'swill giving me a chance of obtaining a large fortune if I should survivemy cousin: the attempts made by Mr. Probus to persuade me to sell thechance of succession: the trumping up of a debt which never existed: myimprisonment in a debtors' Prison: my release by Jenny's assistance: therenewed attempts of Mr. Probus to gain my submission: his threats: andthe truth about the alleged robbery. I also stated that two of thedefendants had been imprisoned in the King's Bench at the same time asmyself and that they were at that time close companions.

  The Counsel for the defence cross-examined me rigorously but with noeffect. My story was plain and simple. It was, in a word, so much to theinterest of Mr. Probus to get me to renounce my chance that he stuck atnothing in order to effect this purpose--or my death.

  I sat down and looked about me. Heavens! with what a different mind fromthat with which I stood in the dock now occupied by my enemies. I shouldhave been more than human had I not felt a great satisfaction at thesight of these four men standing in a row. Let me call it gratitude, notsatisfaction. The spectacle of the chief offender, the contriver of thevillainy, Mr. Probus, was indeed enough to move one's heart to terror,if not to pity. The wretched man had lost, with the whole of his money,the whole of his wits. The money was his God, his Religion, his Heaven:he had lost the harvest of a life: he was old: he would get no moreclients: he would save no more money. He would probably have to make aliving, as others of his kind have done, by advising and acting as anattorney for the rabble of St. Giles's and Clerkenwell. He stood withrounded shoulders and bowed head: he clutched at the iron spikes beforehim: he pulled the sprigs of rue to pieces: he appeared to pay noattention at all to the evidence.

  Mr. Merridew, on the other hand, showed in his bearing the greatestpossible terror and anxiety: he gasped when his Counsel seemed to make apoint in his favour: he shivered and shook when his part in the plot wasexposed. He who had given evidence in so many hanging cases unconcerned,now stood in the dock himself. He was made to feel--what he had neverbefore considered--the natural horror of the prisoner and the dreadfulterror of the sentence.

  The case might have been strengthened by the evidence of the landlady ofthe Black Jack. She, worthy soul, was out of the way, and no oneinquired after her. Nor was her daughter Doll present on the occasion.But there was evidence enough. The gaolers and masters of the countryprisons proved the real character of the two witnesses who calledthemselves respectively a clergyman and a country gentleman. Ramage, theclerk, proved, as before, that Probus brought Merridew to the CountingHouse. Jack, the country lad, proved the consultations at the Black Jackbetween Probus, Merridew, and the two others. These two, indeed, behavedwith some manliness. They had given up all hope of an acquittal andcould only hope that the sentence would be comparatively light. Theytherefore made a creditable appearance of undaunted courage, a thingwhich is as popular in their profession as in any other.

  I do not suppose their crime was capital. Otherwise the Judge would mostcertainly have sent them all to the gallows.

  'Many,' he said at the end, 'are justly executed for offences mildindeed, in comparison with the detestable crime of which you standconvicted.'

  When the case was completed and all the evidence heard, the Judge askedthe prisoners, one after the other, what they had to say in their owndefence.

  'Ezekiel Probus, you have now to lay before the Court whatever you haveto urge in your own defence.'

  Mr. Probus, still with hanging head, appeared not to hear. The wardertouched him on the shoulder and whispered. He held up his head for amoment: looked round the court, and murmured:

  'No--no--it is all gone.'

  Nothing more could be got from him.

  'John Merridew, you have now the opportunity of stating your own case.'

  He began in a trembling voice. He said that he had been long a sheriff'sofficer: that he had incurred great odium by his zeal in the arrest ofcriminals: that it was not true that he had concocted any plot eitherwith Mr. Probus or with the other prisoners: that he was a man ofconsideration whose evidence had frequently been received with respectin that very court: that it was not true, further, as had been stated bythe Prosecution, that he had ever encouraged thieves or advised them tobecome highwaymen: that, if he went to such places as the Black Jack, itwas to arrest villains in the cause of Justice: that he deposed at thelast trial, what he saw or thought he saw--namely a scuffle: he mighthave been in too great a hurry to conclude that the late prisonerHalliday was the assaulting party: the night was dark: he only knew thetwo witnesses as two rogues whom he intended to bring to justice on adozen capital charges for each, as soon as he was out of Newgate: andthat he was a person--this he earnestly begged the Court toconsider--without whom the criminal Courts would be empty and Justicewould be rendered impossible. With more to the same effect, and allwith such servile cringings and entreaties for special consideration asdid him, I am convinced, more harm than good.

  When it came to the Doctor's turn, he boldly declared that if theverdict of the Jury went against him--'And gentlemen,' he said, 'I mustown that the evidence has certainly placed me in a strange, andunexpected and most painful position'--he would bring over theArchbishop of Dublin: the Dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral: and theProvost of Trinity College: besides noblemen of the Irish Peerage andmany of his old parishioners in order to prove that he was what hepretended to be. 'The assurance, gentlemen, that I shall be thussupported, enables me to bear up even against your possible view of thecase and his Lordship's possible opinion. To a Divine of unblemishedlife it is, I confess, inexpressibly painful to be confused with forgersand highwaymen.'

  Lastly, the gallant Captain spoke of himself. 'This,' he said with afront of brass, 'is a case of most unfortunate resemblance. It appearsthat I bear some likeness to a certain notorious robber and highwaymancalled, it is said, the Captain.' Here the whole Court burst intolaughter, so unabashed was the villain when he pronounced these words.He looked round him with affected wonder. 'The event of this trial,however,' he went on, 'matters but little because in two or three weeksI can bring to town the Mayor and Alderman, the Town Clerk, the Rectorof the Church and the Master of the Grammar School of my native town totestify that I am what I have declared myself to be. This being so,gentlemen, you may proceed, if you please, to do your duty.'

  The Judge then summed up. He went through the whole case, adopting theviews of the Counsel for the Prosecution. He said that the evidencebefore him was practically unshaken. It showed that these men, who hadpretended to know nothing of each other were in fact banded and alliedtogether--in short he gave the whole weight of his opinion against theprisoners. Indeed, I cannot think what else he would do seeing thenature of the evidence. So he left the jury to find their verdict.

  They found it, without leaving the box. It was a verdict of 'Guilty'against all four prisoners. I looked to see the Judge assume the blackcap. To my surprise, he did not. He began by commenting in thestrongest terms on the diabolical wickedness of the conspiracy. He saidthat he could find no difference as to the respective guilt of one orthe other. The prisoner Probus, a member of a learned profession, wasthe contriver or designer of the deed: perhaps he might be thought theworst. Indeed, his was a depth of infamy to which it was difficult tofind a rival or an equal. He would be punished worse than the restbecause he would infallibly lose by his disgrace his profession and hispractice. The infamy of the prisoner Merridew, when one considered thehold that he had over a large number of criminals and rogues, was veryclose to that of the prisoner Probus. He had apparently forced the othertwo into carrying out the plot, on threat of informing against them. Inshort, he pronounced the sentence of the court; namely, that theprisoners should stand in pillory for an hour and then be imprisoned forthe space of f
our years.

  On hearing the sentence Mr. Merridew shrieked aloud. 'My Lord!' hecried. 'My Lord! Have mercy! They will murder me!'

  They led him off crying that he was a murdered man. The Doctor swelledout his cassock. 'The Archbishop,' he said, 'will arrive, I believe,next week. There will still be time for his Grace to procure myrelease.' So rolling his head and squaring his sleeves, he followedalong the passage which leads to the Prison.

  I left the Court and made my way through the crowd to the gates ofNewgate in order to tell Jenny.

  'Four years,' she said, 'will more than suffice to ruin the manMerridew. His companies of thieves will be broken up; he will no longerhave any hold over them. He will have to turn rogue himself. When allhas been said, this is the greatest villain of them all. I hope theywill not maltreat the prisoners in pillory; because there they aredefenceless. But a thief-taker--a thief-taker, they cannot abide. If Iwere Mr. Merridew I should wish the job well over.'

  While we were discoursing there came a message from the Captain. WouldMadame grant him the favour of speech with her?

  He came in, walking with his heavy clanking irons. He had lost thebraggart swagger which he assumed at the trial, and now looked ashumble as any pickpocket about to undergo the discipline of the pump.

  'Madame,' he said, 'I thank you for this favour.'

  'Your trial is over, Captain, I hear.'

  'It is over,' he sighed. 'Mr. Halliday, Sir, I hope you are satisfied.'

  'I desire no revenge,' I said. 'I want safety and peace--nothing more.These blessings you and your friends denied me.'

  'It is quite true, Sir. It was a most damnable plot. The only excuse forme is that I had no choice but to comply and obey, or be hanged.'

  'Captain, I do not desire more of your company than is necessary. Willyou tell me what you want of me?'

  'The sentence is'--he made a wry face--'Pillory, Pillory, Madame. Andfour years' imprisonment. But the four years will pass--what I fear isPillory.'

  'I have heard of a man's friends protecting him.'

  'Mine will do what they can. But, Madame, my fear is not so much on myown account as that I may be put up on the same scaffold with Mr.Merridew or Mr. Probus. There isn't a rogue in London who will not comeout with something for the thief-taker. Madame, no one knows the terrorin which we poor robbers live. The world envies us our lot; they thinkit is glorious to ride out of a moonlight night and stop the coach allalone. They don't know that the thief-taker is always behind thehighwayman. He lays his hand on the largest share of the swag; heencourages lads to take the roads, and whenever he wants money he saysthat the time is up and then he takes the reward. My time was up.'

  'I know all this--unhappily--as well as you. What do you want me to do?'

  'Mr. Probus--he will prove quite as unpopular as Merridew. They thirstfor his blood. There will be murder done in the pillory. Madame, for thelove of God, do something for me.'

  'What?'

  'You have great influence. Everybody knows what powerful friends youhave. Make them put the two unpopular prisoners on the same scaffold.They will share the flints between them. Let me stand up beside theBishop. Nobody will give us much more than a dead cat or two and abasket of rotten eggs. But the other two'--he shivered with coldterror--'I know not what will happen to them.'

  'Well, Captain, perhaps if Merridew gives up the profession, you maypossibly turn honest man again when you go out of this place.'

  He shook his head. 'No, that is impossible.'

  'Well, I will do this. The Governor of the Prison is civil to me. I willask him as a special favour to place you as you desire. I hope that youboth--the Bishop as well as yourself--will enjoy your short hour on thatelevated position. Will, give the Captain a bottle of wine to take awaywith him. You can go, sir.'