At War with Society; or, Tales of the Outcasts

by Rodrigues Ottolengui

  The Club Newspaper.

  The sliding scale is so far applicable to us as well as to thieves. Asthe latter proceed from crime to crime, the less to the greater--in thescarlet tint from the lighter to the deeper, so we slide on from traceto trace till we get to the fountain. And there is this similarity, too,between the cases. Our beginnings are small, but they are hopeful, andas the traces increase, we get more energetic and bolder: so with thethieves; there is an achieved success which leads to the greatertriumph. Nay, I have known the parallel carried further. If we fail inone attempt, we try again; and I have a case to give, but not just now,where the urchin Gibbon's first attempt at a till, from which heappropriated _one farthing_, and for which he was punished byconfinement, was quickly succeeded by a greater triumph, to the amountof _seventeen shillings and sixpence_. My present case has apeculiarity, in so far as I contrived to make a _paltry_ theft the leverwhereby to raise up another of a serious description.

  In 1840, Mr Ellis, the manager of the Queen Street Club, was exposed tomuch trouble, suspicion, and difficulty, by complaint after complaint,on the part of the officers frequenting and sleeping in the house, thatmoney, in five and ten-pound notes, had been taken from theirportmanteaus. The case was painful to Mr Ellis in more respects thanone; for although no suspicion could attach to him, yet in all suchconcealed robberies, the natural shades that spread everywhere over allin positions liable to be suspected, require to be elevated or dispersedby the light of reason, and that light comes always with an effort. MrEllis came to the Office, and I got my charge. I saw at once that theculprit was one of the waiters; but then there were several in thehouse, and I knew all the difficulties of a case of that kind. The widerspread the suspicion, the less easy the concentration. I would do mybest, and Mr Ellis had confidence at least in my zeal.

  Repairing, accordingly, to the Club, one forenoon, I questioned Mr Ellisas to the habits of the waiters, and, in particular, which of them livedout of the house. I found that one man, Donald M'Leod, had a house inRose Street, with a wife and no children; and in order that I may nottake too much credit to myself, I may state that that man was moresuspected by his master than any of the others. I was now so far on myway. I called the waiters together in a room with closed doors.

  "Now, gentlemen," (that's my polite way) "I have to inform you thatthere is a robber among you. Bags and portmanteaus have for a lengthenedperiod been opened in this house, and sums of money extracted. All whoare innocent will be glad to answer in the affirmative to my question.Will you consent to your trunks and persons being searched?"

  "Yes," answered every one.

  "Donald M'Leod," continued I, "an honest married man, with a decentwife, I have no doubt can have no objection to my going to his house andtaking a look about it--not that I have any suspicion of him because helives out of the Club, but that his trunks being at home, I must makehim like the others."

  "No objection," replied honest Donald, whose honesty, however, did notsit so easy upon him as honest Rab's of certain romantic notoriety.

  "You will all remain here till I finish my process in the house."

  To which last question having got the answer I expected, I went out andtold Mr Ellis to take care that no messenger should, in the meantime, beallowed to leave the house. The search among the trunks yielded me justas much as I expected--perhaps a little more, in the shape of certainlove epistles, which might have made a little fortune to the streetspeech-criers. What a strange undercurrent, swirling in eddies, doeslove keep for ever moving! But what had I to do with love, who onlywanted money,--two things that are so often cruelly separated, but whichshould be for ever joined.

  I then proceeded to Rose Street, and soon finding my house, I knockedgently. A quiet, decent-looking woman opened it.

  "Are you Mrs M'Leod?"

  "Ay," she answered without fear or suspicion, for what did she know ofJames M'Levy the thief-catcher?

  "Well, my good woman," said I, as I shut the door behind me somewhatcarefully, and afterwards sat down, "you don't know, I fancy, that somethings have been amissing belonging to the gentlemen of the Club?Donald, no doubt, so far as I know, is innocent; but as all the waiters,like honest men, have consented that their trunks should be searched, itis but fair, you know, that I should take a look through your house, toput them all on a footing of equality."

  "And that's right," said she, with really so little timidity, or ratherwith so much apparent sincerity, that, if I had not been M'Levy, I wouldhave thought that Donald was an honest man after all.

  With this permission, and under so kindly a sanction, I commenced mysearch, by no means a superficial one--perhaps deeper in proportion toMrs M'Leod's seeming sincerity. It was not altogether unsuccessful--smallthefts lead on in the scale to big ones, and superficial traces todeeper. I got some newspapers, one with the Club's address, and puttingthem together, said--

  "Mrs M'Leod, you will allow me to take these papers; I fancy Mr Ellisallows Donald, as a favourite, to take away an old one now and then toamuse him at home, and, perhaps, to read to you."

  "Nae doot," said she, "ye dinna fancy Donald wad steal them."

  "By no means. I never said it," replied I. I was not bound to say Inever _thought_ it--a little beyond my candour.

  So I bade Mrs M'Leod good day, and making my way to the Club, I told MrEllis the result of my search.

  "Well," replied he, "you have got something, and you have got nothing."

  "Had Donald M'Leod any authority from you to take these papers, and thisone especially directed to the Club?"

  "Certainly not; but the matter is so small, that I can't see howanything can be made of it."

  "And you would give up the charge?"

  "Yes; it cannot lead to my money."

  "Well," said I, "if that is your decision, I bow to it; but I tell youthis, that out of that solitary old newspaper I will get your money.Will you give me my own way?"

  "Well, I have heard so much of your success in desperate cases, I don'tcare though I do."

  "Agreed," said I.

  And without further parley, I went to Donald, who was at the time in thelobby.

  "Donald," said I, "I want you up to the Office."

  "Me," replied Donald, with an ounce less blood in his cheek-veins thanhe had a minute before, "do you think I'm the robber?"

  "I don't say so," said I; "but I want some information from you which Icannot so well get here."

  And Donald, a little reconciled, and with a little of the blood in theact of returning, took his hat.

  When I got him to the Office, I immediately clapped him into a cell, andlocking the door, was under way once more for Rose Street.

  "Mrs M'Leod," said I, as the honest Gael opened the door, and shut it,"I am a little vexed."

  "What's the matter? I hope naething's wrang wi' Donald?"

  "Why, not much," said I; "I am only troubled about these old uselessnewspapers. The authorities up the way--dangerous creatures theseauthorities--have taken it into their wise heads that Donald stole thepapers from the Club; nay, they have locked him up in a cell as dark aspitch, with bread and water for fare, and, I fear, no hope of anythingbut judgment and punishment."

  "Fearfu' news!" said the woman. "Oh, terrible news! condemn a man for anauld newspaper!" and hiding her face in her hands, she burst into tears.

  I need not say I pitied her, for in reality I did; for at that time Ihad not the slightest reason to suppose that she could know that thepapers were not given to Donald, or allowed to be taken as having servedtheir purpose, and being consequently useless.

  "But there's hope," said I.

  "Hope!" she cried, "Hope!" as she took away her hands,"Whaur?--how?--speak, for God's sake!"

  "The charge is a small one," said I, "and I have no doubt it would bescored off, provided the missing money were got. I'm sure you don't haveit; I have searched the house; but perhaps"----

  "What?" she broke in, "what?"

  "Perhaps you may know through Donald whe
re it is?"

  I watched her face, which was now pale. She began to think, and she didthink; for if ever thought came out of a face, it might have been readin the point of her nose, sharpened by the collapse of the musclesthrough fear.

  If in this agony she sat a minute, she sat fully five; but I waspatient. I turned my face from her, and looked at nothing, perhapsbecause my mind was directed to something. She was under a struggle; Iheard the signs,--the quick breath, the heaving chest, the sobs, theefforts to suppress them,--still I was patient and pitiful. Sad dutiesours! Yes, we must steel ourselves against human woes; nay, we must turnnature's yearnings to the advantage of official selfishness. At length,

  "Are you sure the newspapers will be scored aff?"

  "Sure."

  And then another sinking into the battle of her thoughts,--the lipsquivering, the desultory movements of the hands, the jerking from oneposition to the other,--at length calmness--the calmness of one whoseagony is over,--a rest of many minutes.

  "And you're sure," she said again, as she fixed her eyes upon me, withsuch speech in them that my soul revolted at its very wickedness. Must Iadmit it? Yes, it is put upon us. A lie is one thing, the keeping deepdown in our hearts the truth another. The one I abhor, the other is aduty. I knew that the money, if produced, would form a charge in placeof the newspapers. I knew she didn't think this; but I knew also I wasnot bound to tell her that she was wrong in not thinking it. Nay, thereare worse cases than mine, that may be and are justified every day. Whenrobbers are at the window, and you cry, "Bring me the gun," when thereis no gun in the house, you lie; but you are not bound to tell men whosehands are at your throat that you lie. There are necessities that gobeyond all moral codes, and laugh at them. If this woman knew where thatstolen money was, she was, by her own doing, under the sharpconsequences of that necessity, and must abide the result as anatonement for an act not perpetrated under that necessity. Behold mylogic! I am at the mercy of the public.

  These were not my thoughts at the time; my conduct was merely the effectof them, and I was simply watchful. At length Mrs M'Leod rose from thechair,--she stood for a moment firm,--she then went into a closet,where, having remained a little, she came forth, to my astonishment,changed; she was dressed--shawl, bonnet, and veil.

  "Come with me," she said in a low voice, sorrowful, but without atremor.

  I said nothing, only obeyed. She shut the door, and proceeding down thestair, beckoned me to follow her. Not a word was spoken. We got down tothe foot of the stair, then to the street, and I followed her as sheled. We proceeded in this silent way until we came to Frederick Street.We then went along that street till she came to the area gate of agentleman's house; that gate she opened, and going down the stair, sheagain beckoned me to follow her. We now stood before the kitchen-door,at which she rapped. The knock was obeyed, and a young woman made herappearance.

  "Peggy," said Mrs M'Leod in a whisper, which I heard very well, "I ha'ecome for yon."

  "Yon!" muttered I to myself; strange Scotch word--something like themysterious "it," when applied to a ghost.

  "Weel!" replied the girl, "come in."

  We both entered, and were led along a dark passage till we came to abedroom--no doubt that of the young woman. We entered it, and theservant, who seemed to be struck with the sympathy of our silence,proceeded to open a blue trunk, from which she took out a small bundle,composed of a roll of a red handkerchief.

  "There it is," said she, as she put it into the hands of Mrs M'Leod.

  We then left the room, returning again to the kitchen, from which weproceeded into the area.

  "There's the siller," said she, as she put the bundle into my hands.

  I took the parcel and placed it in my pocket. We mounted the stair, andMrs M'Leod left me. It is needless to say that I could not restrain mycuriosity; nor did I try. I went down towards Princes Street Gardens,and seating myself on the parapet, proceeded to undo the redhandkerchief. I found within a large bundle of banknotes, composed oftens and fives, and upon counting them found the amount to be L180. NowI fairly admit I was not satisfied. I wanted something more; and tyingup my bundle I repaired again to Rose Street.

  "Mrs M'Leod," said I, as I entered, "it will be necessary that you markthese notes for me. My masters, the authorities, will not believe I gotthem from you unless I get your name to them. Have you pen and ink?"

  "Ay," said she, "but I daurna mark them, Donald would be angry."

  "But you forget the authorities," said I.

  "The authorities!" she repeated, with a kind of a tremble at the verysound of the word.

  "Yes, they may be angry, and you know the anger of the authorities isvery different from that of Donald M'Leod."

  "Very true," replied she.

  And bringing the pen and ink I got her name to every note. I was _now_satisfied, and taking the direction of Queen Street, arrived at theClub, where I saw Mr Ellis.

  "How much money was taken altogether?" inquired I.

  "Why," said he, "I collected the different complaints, and adding up thesums found they amounted to L180."

  "The Highlanders are a very careful people," said I. "The sum I haverecovered, and which is tied up in this handkerchief, is just L180."

  "Recovered!" said he, in astonishment. "Why, I thought it was a forlornhope. Where in all the earth did you get it; or rather, I should ask,how?"

  "Just by means of the old newspaper with the name of the Club upon it. Ithink I told you that if I took my own way, and not yours, I would getthe cash."

  "You did," replied he; "but to be very candid with you, I had no hope,though I admitted I had faith in your name. But tell me where you gotit, for I am dying to know?"

  "I can hardly explain all in the meantime," said I. "I am bent for theOffice, and up for time. But I may inform you that Donald M'Leod is theman, and we must keep him in custody."

  "The newspaper!" again ejaculated Mr Ellis, as if he was in greatperplexity. "How a piece of printed paper should be the means of gettingL180! Was the money marked upon it?"

  "No; yet I repeat it was the means of getting your money. Of course Icannot leave the notes with you. You will get them after Donald receiveshis sentence."

  And with this I went away, leaving Mr Ellis to divine how the oldnewspaper came to have so much virtue. I then proceeded to the Office,where, having deposited the money, and explained the affair to theSuperintendent, I was asked, "Where is the woman?"

  And I knew that this question would be asked of me, and I knew also whatwould be my answer.

  "Why, sir," said I, "do you really think that I should be the man toapprehend that woman?"

  "Strictly, you should," said he, with a smile; "but if ever there was acase in which an officer might be passed over for a duty, it is this. Iwould rather go for her myself than put this duty on you. I acknowledgeyou were justified in the words you used, that the newspapers would bescored, and that you were entitled to your mental reservation. Thequestion may be said to be a subtle one, suited to the logic ofcasuists, but I affirm that it may be resolved by a sturdy moralist. Asfor the rest, you have shewn a feeling creditable to the heart of aright man, in leaving the apprehension of the woman to another."

  Mrs M'Leod was in the evening brought up by my assistant. The two weretried at the High Court, and Donald was sentenced to seven years'transportation, while Mrs M'Leod, as being under the iron rule of theGael, was acquitted.