University of Virginia Library

21. CHAPTER XXI.
Crime's Recompense.

After his last interview with Mr. Acton,
Isaac Gordon—or Caleb Crowl, as
the reader pleases—hastened back to Boston.
Since the night on which he consigned little
Robert to the safe keeping of Mrs. Crabb in
Spear's Alley, he had been, until that afternoon,
a sort of prisoner in the house of
Gustavus Burnam, and he had not ventured
near his agreeable companion, Meg Munson,
after his release. Now, however, he was
resolved to return home to cheer the heart of
that respectable lady.

It was late in the evening when he arrived
in Centre street, and groped his way up the
dark staircase leading to his beloved home.
He found the door locked, but a dim light
glimmered through divers crevices, proceeding
from within. He shook the door, which
hung loosely in its place, and shouted to
Meg to give him admittance:

`Who's there?' cried the shrill voice of
that individual.

`I—Gordon—don't you know me?' —
shouted the burglar. `Come! let me in!'

`You don't deserve to be let in at all,'
muttered Meg, as she sullenly unfastened
the door. `Where have you been?'

`I've been where I couldn't help myself
to get away,' replied Gordon; `it was a sort
of prison.'

`What have you done with the child?'
demanded Meg.

`I left him with mother Crabb, in Spear's
Alley,' said the burglar. She promised to
take good care of him until I called for
him.'

`And have you seen him since?'

`No.'

`You knew that a reward had been offered?'

`Yes,' replied Gordon, rubbing his hands.
It's a thumper, ain't it? We are sure of
that Meg. I'll arrange things in the morning,
so that the reward can be got without
our being suspected of the theft.'

Gordon could not sleep that night on account
of two important projects that occupied
his brain. Said he to himself—

`First of all, I'll get the reward for the
child, through some confidential friend who
can steal it from Mrs. Crabb, and restore it
to its friends without being suspected of
having had anything to do with stealing it in
the beginning. Afterwards, I'll put that
devil of a Chivers out of the way, and get
the twelve hundred Acton has promised me
for doing that dirty piece of work.'

After spending the greater part of the
night in maturing his plans, Gordon dropped
asleep, and did not awake until broad
daylight on the following morning. Meg
was still asleep. Without awakening her,
he stole out of the house and directed his
footsteps towards the residence of Mrs.
Crabb.

The citizens residing in Spear's Alley
were already astir, and divers ragged children
were gathering about the doors in that
quarter. Gordon hastened on to No. 5,
when he had the pleasure of meeting Mrs.
Crabb upon the threshold.

`What's the news?' said he. `How's the
child I left with you?'

Mrs. Crabb beeame very pale.

The child—you left—' she stammered, `I
am sorry to say—'

`What?' demanded Gordon, fiercely; `he
is not dead—'

`No—but—'

`Speak!'

`He has run away!'

Gordon uttered a curse of angry disappointment,
and laid his hand roughly on
Mrs. Crabb's shoulder, looking at her with
an expression so full of revenge and hate
that she trembled with fear.

`You lie!' muttered the burglar, fiercely.
`You have sold the child, or—'

`As true as I stand here—' (as Mrs. C.
spoke she was on the point of falling with
affright)—as true as I stand here I don't
know what has become of the child. He
run away, and I can't find him no where!'

`When was that?' demanded Gordon.

`The very day after you left him here.'

`But you promised to keep him in sight.'

`I did, I know; but he slipped away; I
can't tell how; but all at once, when I looked
for him, he was gone.'

After some farther parley, Gordon bestowing
all sorts of maledictions on his old
friend, Mrs. Crabb, left her and returned to
Centre street.

If he had been enraged at Mrs. Crabb,
for the loss of the child, Meg was in turn
furious in her imprecations against him.—
He silenced her, however, by showing the
handle of his dirk, accompanying the action
with a dark, revengeful look, the meaning of
which she could not but understand.

After partaking of a hasty breakfast, the
burglar left the house.

Half an hour after, he was at the residence
of Gustavus Burnam.

`He is engaged,' said a servant; `you
must call again.'

Gordon went away, and three hours after
made his appearance again. This time Burnam
was not at home, and the burglar was
told he would net return before evening.

`Call at seven,' said the servant.

Gordon was there again at the hour, and
had the satisfaction of finding the gentleman
of whom he was in search.

He was shown into Burnam's apartment.

`How now, Crowl?' said Gustavus, showing
him a chair? You wished to see me.
What can I do for you?'

`Much,' said the burglar. `You can tell
me, I suppose, what has become of the child
I left at No. 5, Spear's Alley.'

`Mr. Acton's boy, Robert?'

`Yes.'

`What should I know about him?'

`He has disappeared,' said Gordon, soberly.
`You are the only person that knew he
was there, besides myself, and I mistrust
you know what has become of him now.—
You heard he was stolen from his parents
an hour after that event took place, and then
your servant watching for me to bring me
here, saw me carry the boy to Spear's Alley.
You promised that night that you would no
betray me, nor give information where the
child was; and now, if you have been the
means of carrying him away, I ask it as a
particular favor (Gordon laid great stress
on these two words) that you should deliver
the child into my hands once more.'

`What object would it be for me to carry
off the child?' asked Burnam with a smile.

`That's it,' replied Gordon; `it can't be
for your interest to have the boy, while the
reward is an object for me; that's why I
was so bold as to ask of you to give him to
me again, if you had carried him off.'

`Why should I carry him off?' asked Burnam;
`do I want anything of the child myself?
do I want the reward? or do I hold
myself under obligations to do Mr. Acton a
favor?' What could I do with the boy?'

`Then you have not got him?' asked the
burglar.

`Nq.'

Gordon's features wore an expression of
disappointment and perplexity.

`Yours is a thankless profession,' said
Burnam with a smile. `You meet with
many disappointments, no doubt, and are
never safe.'

`True—true!'

`Why don't you try something better—
something more worthy of a man?'

`It is not in my power.'

`Have I not offered to assist you?'

`Yes; but you did not tell me how.'

`Why,' said Burnam, `if you would only
become an honest man, I would do more for
you than you dream of. Promise me to reform,
and I will begin to-night.'

`I do mean to reform,' replied Gordon.

`Then come with me this evening,' said
Gustavus, `and I will introduce you to a
man, who, if he finds you honest, will put
you into the way of making your fortune.'

`To-night?' said Gordon; and his heart
bounded with joy when Gustavus answered
in the affirmative, and added that he would
go out with him in half an hour. They
were to walk, and no one was to accompany
them.

`Now, then, for my work!' muttered
Gordon.

It was about eight o'clock in the evening
when Gordon followed Burnam along some
of the principal streets of Boston, and proceeded
at length to a more retired portion
of the city.

There were no carriages passing, and
their footsteps alone fell upon the pavement.
The street lamps were not lighted, for there
was a moon which shed its mellow light upon
the city, when unobscured by the clouds
that swept over the sky.

Gordon walked on the left hand of Burnam,
and close to his side, though a little
behind. The right hand of the burglar
grasped a dirk which he had concealed under
his coat. Half a dozen times, with his
mind made up to do the foul deed he meditated,
had he clutched his weapon, ready to
plunge it into the bosom of his companion,
but each time, some movement on the part
of Gustavus, or some trifling occurrence in
the street, turned him from his purpose.

At last Burnam, suspecting his design,
suddenly tore open the burglar's coat, and
discovered the weapon clutched by his brawny
hand.

`Ha!' laughed Gustavus, scornfully; `you
would assassinate me, I see!'

`Yes!' muttered Gordon.

And in despair at finding himself detected,
the burglar aimed a blow at Burnam's
breast with a fierce and deadly purpose.

Quick as thought Gustavus grasped his
arm with his left hand, and with his right
struck the ungrateful monster to the ground.
Gordon was but an infant in the grasp of
that powerful man. In an instant the dirk
was wrenched from his hand, and his throat
was beneath the heel of his adversary.

`Arise!' exclaimed Gustavus.

Slowly and painfully Gordon regained his
feet.

`I did not think you such a villain,' pursued
his companion. `But I am prepared
for you now. It is a dangerous undertaking
te do good to man like you, for like an ungrateful
cur you bite the hand that feeds you.
Now follow me, as before; and know that an
attempt to escape me, or to injure me, will
be your death.'

Without saying a word, the burglar followed
Gustavus, in obedience to his own
commands, like a crest-fallen slave.

Soon they were passing along Commercial
street, Burnam leading the way, yet
keeping his keen, watchful eye upon the
burglar.

`You must go with me on board yonder
vessel,' said Gustavus, as he conducted his
companion across the street, towards a ship
which lay alongside one of the long, broad
wharves in that quarter of the town. `I
think I will find a place for you where you
will be compelled to be honest for a little
while. Come along.'

The two were passing along the wharf towards
the ship, so near the water that they
could hear the hoarse waves dashing against
the stones and planks beneath them. All
else was still around them, save the panting
of the engine of a ferry boat that was crossing
the river before them, and the voices of
a crew of carousing sailors in the street
near by. Gordon glanced into the dark water,
and stepped still closer to Burnam's
side.

`He is off his guard now,' thought he.
`If I could only push him off I might escape

before he could get out of the water.

Springing at Gustavus with all his might,
he seized him and dragged him to the edge
of the wharf, before he could bring his
strength to bear against the burglar, who
had him to a great advantage. But Burnam
was quick and athletic. He planted his
foot firmly in the ground, wheeled suddenly
about, unclasping Gordon's hold at the same
time, and hurled him from him with all his
force.

Gordon's foot tripped, and he was thrown
headlong from the wharf. There was a
heavy splash in the water beneath, and the
burglar had disappeared.

In a short time, however, he arose again
to the surface, and east a look of agony at
Burnam, who stood watching him from
above. He could not swim, but flung his
arms wildly about him, calling out for help,
while the waves dashed over him and bore
him down. At last he touched something—
he grasped it with the eagerness of despair;
but his efforts were vain. His hand touched
nothing save the slippery side of a tall, dark
vessel, under the bows of which he lay.—
He gasped, shrieked, and beat the water in
agony, but the waves sucked him down, and
he sank to rise no more!