University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.

An hour elapsed before Gordon left the residence
of Langdale. When he found himself in the street,
by the directest course he proceeded to that of Benbow,
who dwelt at least a mile off, in an obscure part
of the city. His quick eye detected a figure under
the shade of the lamp as he passed, and in his suspicious
mind the wonder instantly occurred, what the
designs of the person were. He hurried on, and
began to fear that he was dogged; so, to avoid the
consequences, he called a hack, and, stepping in,
ordered the hackman to drive to a certain square,
which was some distance above Benbow's. There
he alighted, and cautiously hastened to Benbow's; but
fearing to give his accustomed signal at the front entrance,
he looked round to see if he was observed,
and then entered an alley beside the house, and then
the yard, when, at the back door, he made three raps,
gave a whistle, and, after some time, was admitted by
his coadjutor.

“What brought you in at the back door?” said
Benbow. “I always suspect something when you
come in that way.”

“Maybe I have suspicions of the other way.
I called here to-night before, and you were not
in.”

“Come in now, then.”

“No; it's no use. I'm in a hurry, and must be
back to Springdale to-night. Benbow, you must be
out there early in the morning, before the court sits.
I have fixed it so that you will get a summons by
day. Let Lupton and me alone for that. He tells
me you will be a good witness to prove that this
Bob, who is on his trial, is in the habit of passing
counterfeit money.”

“I washed my hands of that business, I told you!”
exclaimed Benbow, impatiently. “I attend to nothing
but the regular business, and am getting afraid of
that.”

“In for a penny, in for a pound, Benbow, is as true
as preaching. That infernal black rascal, old Fitzhurst's
coachman, saw me slip the tin box between
the logs. What a nigger says is no testimony, so
they can't hurt me; but Lupton swears that my testimony
must be bolstered up to convict him. The
easiest and naturalest thing in the world, is to have
you summoned; you committed him before for a like
offence, and we want your testimony.”

“But I say you can't have it.”

“Can't have it; why, Benbow, you're cracked.
Don't you see it's the very thing, if we can send this
limping devil to the penitentiary, who'll suspect us?
He can't 'peach against us; and as he has nobody to
'peach against, they'll put it down to his stubbornness.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Only that he was up before you for the same crime,
and that he was let off on account of his youth.
Don't you see it's the very thing?”

“Well, well; I've a misgiving in my mind that all
this out of the course will lead to the worst kind of
trouble.”

“You're always croaking—there's a rap at your
door—'taint the signal, though.”

“No, 'tis not,” said Benbow, alarmed; “what shall
I do?”

“Why, let 'em in.”

“Come in, then, yourself.”

“No, I must be off.”

“Be off! I'm coming out to oblige you—you might
as well oblige me.”

“You're lilly-livered, Benbow—go it while you're
young; however, I'll go in with you.” And in they
went together, to the front room, where Benbow held
his magisterial office, the door of which he opened, and
admitted Ross, the celebrated rogue-taker.

“Ah,” said Benbow, giving him a hearty shake of
the hand; “come in.”

The welcome personage was a tall, fine-looking fellow,
fashionably dressed, but still with an air of vulgarism
about him. He wore a large pair of whiskers
in fine trim, and possessed a remarkably quick and
merry eye. There was a careless off-handedness
about him, which seemed to indicate that he took the
world easy, and had little to do with its cares, crimes,
or criminals. He was beyond the middle age, but
he wore his years like an abbot, and appeared indifferent—very—to
things about him. He ungloved
his hand, and shook indexes frankly, both with Benbow
and Jack.

“Well, gentlemen,” he exclaimed; “how does the
world treat you?”

“Just so, so,” said Benbow; “money's scarce.”

“Oh! that's always the complaint,” said Ross;
“my friend Gordon here, I warrant me, won't agree

with you—now, at least, just after the races, where I
am told he has been sucking them in all round. I
envy the life of a sportman,” continued he, throwing
himself into a chair; “the world has no cares for
them, and we constables nothing to do with them,
except when they bungle in a professional way, and then
they deserve punishment for bungling, if for nothing
else.”

“I agree with you there,” replied Jack; “if I
had'nt, I should'nt have chosen the trade myself—
but it has its perplexities.”

“Yes,” said Ross; “it requires a man to be everywhere
at once, sometimes. Now, you, I suppose,
who were this afternoon a witness at Springdale
against that counterfeiter, had to be in town to-night
to attend some meeting of your cronies, and pluck a
pigeon.”

“No; I was only a little tired of Springdale, and I
thought I'd ride in to-night for company, and be out
to-morrow time enough for court. Ross, tell me, is
there no law for punishing a negro who interrupts a
white man in open court while he is giving in his
testimony?”

“None particularly; he may be punished for contempt
of court, like any other disturber of the peace
under the circumstances.”

“Contempt of court! yes; and there was a contempt
of Jack Gordon that I would'nt take from a
white man, let alone a negro. Ross, I wish you
could manage so as to buy him for me.”

“What per cent. will you give on the price?”

“Fifty, down.”

“Ah! whose negro is he?”

“Old Fitzhurst's.”

“What do you consider him worth?”

“Worth! he is the old coachman—worth! nothing

but to me; and I'll give a thousand dollars for
him.”

“And then get yourself hung for killing him. No,
I'll have nothing to do with that business. Why,
Benbow, where's your bottle; have you nothing to offer
an old friend to drink? The weather has got comparatively
mild again, but I'll stir these coals and take
something, as I expect Jessop here soon on a business
that will require the scent of a Vidocq.”

“Ah! what's in the wind?” asked Benbow, as he
proceeded to place a decanter of brandy, with tumblers
and water, on the table.

“Wait a while, all in good time; business is business,
and pleasure is pleasure. Benbow, you're the
very man whom I like to issue a warrant for me
when I wish to catch a rogue; there's virtue in them;
they always seem to lead me on the scent better than
any other magistrate's warrants that I know of.
Here's my service to you, and may you never have
as good a one issued against yourself.”

“Against me!” said Benbow, replacing the decanter
as he was in the act of putting it to the glass; “a joke,
a joke, Ross.”

“I know it is, and therefore am I joking. You look
as if I was not, nevertheless; a secret conscience
needs no accuser.”

“That's true,” replied Benbow, replenishing his
glass; “and, upon the principle of another proverb,
the virtue is not in my warrant, but in your skill.”

“I'll lay you odds on that, and Gordon here shall
be judge.”

“Done,” said Benbow; “a supper with liquor for
the three of us, or as many more as you choose, should
they happen to fall in.”

“Agreed! and here's the proof. Last week, you
remember, I arrested O'Rielly, the celebrated horse-thief.
I met him about ten miles from here, and

suddenly presenting old Smith's warrant at him, told
him I arrested him. He looked at the warrant, and
said, `Ross, it's no go.' That's a fact, said I, but
there's virtue in this warrant, and I showed him yours,
when he surrendered forthwith.”

“Likely enough!” exclaimed Benbow; “but 'twas
because Smith's term of office expired the day before.
You got his warrant, and so you got one
from me, and presented the wrong one at first. He
was always a blunderer.”

“Well, then, there was the most virtue in yours.
Don't you say so, Gordon?”

“It so strikes me,” said Jack.

“Pooh! what does Gordon know about law!” exclaimed
Benbow. “His was no warrant at all, I tell
you. There was no more virtue in it, than if Gordon
was to fill up a warrant, or you were to pass judgment
on a man. A warrant, gentlemen, is not a
warrant, unless it issues from the proper person,
from one, at the time of issuing it, in the full authority
of the magistracy.”

“Will you admit then,” said Ross, walking carelessly
to the door, and opening it, as if he meant to
look out for a moment, will you admit—Halloo!—
here's Jessop and Prettyman; come in (they entered
accordingly); will you admit that a warrant from
Stansbury, who is in full authority of the magistracy,
to arrest you for counterfeiting, and search your premises,
is of any virtue?”

“Me!” exclaimed the terrified Benbow.

“I am sorry, Benbow,” said Ross, in a serious
tone, “but such are my instructions; you can't but
say that I have broken them to you like a gentleman,
and like a gentleman I will fulfil them; you know
me, and I know you; so we'll leave Jessop and Gordon
here till we return, and we'll commence up stairs

first.” So saying, Ross lit another candle which
stood by, and asked Prettyman to accompany him.
“You can stay, if you please, Benbow; only give me
your keys, and it will prevent your trunks and doors
from being broken open.”

Benbow, paralysed with guilt, covered his face
with his hands for a moment, and then, rising,
mechanically said: “Do what you please with
me.”

“Benbow, be a man!” said Gordon; “you don't
fear, do you?”

“No, no; but I tell you, Gordon—yes, I'll go
with you—no, I'll sit here with Gordon; here's my
keys.”

“You had better go with Ross!” exclaimed Gordon;
“I must be off soon.”

“Yes, yes; I'll go.”

“Show the way, then,” said Ross, lifting the candle.
Benbow led the way up stairs, followed by Ross
and Prettyman, and leaving Jessop and Gordon
below.

“Jessop,” said Gordon, who, by a strong effort
had compelled himself to keep his chair, “what does
all this mean?”

“Mean! nothing, only that Benbow has some
enemies who want to spit their spite upon him.”

Meanwhile Ross and Prettyman made the strictest
search up stairs, but without discovering anything
whatever tending to criminate Benbow. They returned
to his office, ransacked that, the cellar, and
every other part of the house, with the same fruitless
results. The while Benbow's confidence increased.
At first he talked of his innocence; why should he be
a counterfeiter; and then, as their probability of success
waxed fainter, he began to speak of his magisterial
character, and the damages a court of justice

would give him in its sustainment. While he
was thus expatiating they returned to his office,
where Ross replaced the candle on the table, and
helping himself to a glass of brandy and water,
said:

“Benbow, you can't blame me,—'tis all in the way
of business; you're a gentleman, I'm a gentleman,
and I've treated you accordingly. Take something
yourself. The warrant was sworn out by the sheriff
of the next county, who came here for the purpose.
Jessop knows that.”

“What, of Springdale county, where they are trying
Bob Gammon?” asked Gordon, who several
times during their absence had arisen to go, but who
was detained by the careless manner of Jessop, who
seemed indifferent to his going or staying. He was
also painfully anxious to know the result, and after a
moment's reflection it occurred to him, that Benbow's
suspicious fears had always prevented him from
keeping anything to criminate himself about his
house.

“Yes, the same,” replied Ross, carelessly; “but
business is business, and now we are done with it.
So, let's have glasses round; and, Benbow, this is another
proof that there are no warrants like yours; so here's
to the virtue of your warrants.”

“Well!” exclaimed Benbow, much relieved as he
quaffed a bumper, “I hope, Ross, I may never issue
one against you. I must say you have acted like
a gentleman. I'll be even with them some of these
days.”

“Don't mind that, my dear fellow!” exclaimed
Ross; “you're out of custody; I'll take the responsibility
of not taking you before Stansbury; just let the
matter drop. Good night to you, my friends. I must
now leave you. Sorry I am to leave such good

company, but the best of friends must part. I always
make it my business to be at the theatre every
night before it closes, and it is now near ten
o'clock.”

Ross shook hands with all round, and proceeded
to the theatre, whither we will follow him.