CHAPTER XV.

“The justice flung them beath in jail—My faith! what’s duin they’ll sair repent.”Bad News.

“The justice flung them beath in jail—

My faith! what’s duin they’ll sair repent.”

Bad News.

Onreaching their temporary home, the Sandboys immediately made inquiries as to whether the French gentleman—M. Le Comte de Sanschemise—whose card Cursty had received that morning, and to whom he had given his season ticket for the Exhibition in exchange, had returned from the Crystal Palace. No tidings, however, were to be obtained of the gentleman, further than that he had been seen to leave the establishment shortly after themselves in the morning.

Cursty, when he and his dear Aggy had partaken of some refreshment, proceeded to take up his residence in one of the rooms immediately adjoining the hall; and having provided himself with a thick ash stick, sat himself down to await the coming of the Comte; for the sturdy mountaineer had made up his mind to have satisfaction for the injuries of himself and his wife in a very different way from what the Frenchman demanded or expected.

Aggy, too, who did not fail to attribute her dip in the Serpentine, and the consequent destruction of her best white chip bonnet and Sunday front, solely to the abstraction of her husband’s season ticket by M. le Comte de Sanschemise, was only too glad to wait with Cursty, in hopes of seeing “the wretch” severely punished for his dishonesty.

But though the determined Mr. Christopher Sandboys sat in the waiting-room, with his thick ground-ash stick, till long past midnight, no M. Le Comte made his appearance; and when the want of sleep had got the better of the Cumberland man’s indignation, he began to think that he should have many future opportunities of making the Frenchman pay the penalty of his peccadilloes.

Accordingly, when the exhausted couple heard the hall clock strike two, they considered it best to retire to rest, and see what luck the morrow would bring them.

The first inquiry of the Sandboys in the morning was, as to whether the Comte had entered the establishment in the course of the night? The answer, unfortunately, was in the negative.

Whatcouldhave become of the man?

On descending to the breakfast-room, however, their suspense was speedily put an end to; for the first words uttered by Mrs. Wewitz, to whom they had communicated the whole of the circumstances immediately on their return, were concerning the fate of the missing gentleman. She placed that morning’s paper in Mr. Sandboys hand; and there, in the police reports, the horrified and enraged Christopher beheld an account as to how a gentleman, of respectable exterior, who gave the name of Mr. Cursty Sandboys, had entered the Exhibition, and been detected in the act of stealing a stiletto, with a silver handle, set with jewels.

Then followed a long account as to how the gentleman, on being committed for trial, had, on entering the prison, refused to put on the prison dress; and how, on being divested of his coat, he was found, although externally “got” up in the most expensive and elaborate manner, to be literally without a shirt to his back—the wrist-bands, of which he made so prodigious a display, being tacked to the cuffs of his coat, and the collar, apparently of his shirt, pinned to his stock. On divesting him of his patent leather boots, it was stated, moreover, that Mr. Cursty Sandboys’ feet were found to be swathed, brigand-fashion, in dirty linen rags.

The veritable Mr. Cursty Sandboys knew not how to act.

From the peculiarity of the name he was satisfied that he, and none other, would be mistaken for the shirtless culprit. The inexperienced native of Buttermere was ignorant of all the ordinary methods by which the error might be rectified, and seeing no way but to sit down patiently under the stigma, he very resignedly submitted to the disgrace, consoling himself with the idea that at least the man would be severely punished for his misdemeanours.

Despite her annoyance at the use of her husband’s name, Mrs. Cursty read the account of the linenless state of the pretended foreign nobleman with a kind of inward satisfaction, complimenting herself continually upon the shrewdness of her suspicions as to the extent of the Frenchman’s wardrobe, and glorying over the punishment of one to whom she attributed so many of her late misfortunes.

The imprisonment of the assumed Comte was a great consolation to the Sandboys, and tended considerably to weaken their determination to quit London without seeing the Great Exhibition.

On reconsidering the matter, it began to appear to them that it would be folly, and betray great want of firmness on their part, if, after all they had gone through during their sojourn in the Great Metropolis, they should return to Cumberland without seeing the very thing which had brought them up to town.

All they wanted was to be able tosaythey had seen the Exhibition. Mrs. Cursty did not hesitate to confess, that after all she had suffered, she did not, for her part, care whether she saw it or not. All she desired was just to put her nose inside the door, so as not to be obliged to go back and acknowledge that, though they had come up to town for the express purpose of witnessing the Great Exhibition, and paying goodness knows what for season tickets and “new things” they had been “stupids enough” to go back without having had a glimpse at a single article in the Crystal Palace after all.

No, that would never do.

The accounts which they read in the papers, moreover, served to make them still more anxious to see what all appeared to consider the great wonder of the age. Besides, Cursty himself began to perceive that the Great Exhibition was not the mere gewgaw show that he had anticipated, and the more he read about it, the more desirous he felt to make himself acquainted with its various details.

Mrs. Cursty, too, after a little while, became, in her turn, eager to see the “Mountain of Light” in its gilt cage,—and the Queen of Spain’s jewels,—and the French tapestry, and the stomacher of brilliants that she had heard so much about—and the carpet worked by one hundred and fifty ladies as a present to the Queen—and the beautiful state-bed—and the poplin loom, which could make the poplin a quarter of a yard wider than usual, which, in her opinion, was one of the greatest improvements in the whole place;—and then there was that love of a glass fountain which she should not rest easy in her bed, she knew, if she went back to Cumberland without seeing,—and, better still, that delicious fountain of “Aqua d’Oro,” which the ladies were at liberty to dip their handkerchiefs in as much and as often as they pleased.

Cursty, however, wanted to see objects of a very different character. He had heard of the splendid specimens of black-lead from the Borrowdale mines in his native county; and he longed to know how it was possible to make the refuse dust into solid cakes, equal if not better than the pure article. He wanted to see the different specimens of slate, for the quarries on Honister Craig were close by his home; and he knew all about the working, and the different sizes—the “Ladies,” the “Duchesses,” the “Countesses,” the “Queens,” the “Imperials,” and the “Rags.” He was deeply versed in Mundic and Galena, and all the ores of lead; and he longed to see the huge specimens of those minerals that he had read of as being shown in the Great Exhibition. He knew a little of coal, too, and had just managed to get a peep at the colossal pieces of “Cannel,” of “Steam,” and of “Anthracite,” arranged outside the building. He also wanted to see the large lump of silver that had been obtained from the lead ore by the crystallizing process. More than all, he was anxious to see the machinery-room, which everybody spoke of with such enthusiasm. There was the monster pump, with its two mouths, pouring out its river of water,—he wanted to see the steam printing-press, and the carding and spinning-machines, and the power-looms, of which he had heard such marvels.

Eager to see all these, and many more things which he had heard and read were deposited within the building of the Great Exhibition, Cursty talked the matter calmly over with his wife, and finally agreed that, as he was anxious to get back to Cumberland as soon as possible, and could not afford to wait till the prices of admission fell to a shilling, it would be better for him to buy another season ticket directly, and then he and Aggy could go for an hour or so each day for the next fortnight, and so be able to examine every object of interest in the collection without fatiguing themselves.

Accordingly, Mr. Christopher, the very next day, applied at the office, and obtained the requisite document.

Once more, then, the Sandboys set forth on their pilgrimage to the Exhibition of the Works of Industry and Art of all Nations.

Mrs. Sandboys, having learnt experience from her previous disasters, managed to make the “things,” (for so the lady would persist in calling her several articles of dress,) which she possessed suffice for her without purchasing new.

On reaching the doors at which their tickets of admission were to be presented, and where they arrived, extraordinary to say, without any particular accident, they tendered the official cards, and were handed the books in which to insert their signatures,

As the clerk observed the name of the gentleman on the card, and saw Mr. Cursty Sandboys prepare to write a similar title in the Autograph Book, he remembered that this was the very appellation of the individual who had been detected, a few days back, in abstracting a silver-handled stiletto from one of the counters in the interior.

Before the lady had time to insert her autograph in the official register, the clerk begged to be excused, saying he was called away upon important business; and, proceeding to some of his brother officials, he informed them that the impudent thief Cursty Sandboys had dared to seek admission at the Crystal Palace once more.

In an instant, the news that the expert Cursty Sandboys, the pickpocket, was about to enter the building, spread throughout the Crystal Palace, literally with the rapidity of lightning, for the electric telegraph was immediately set to work, telling the officials, one and all, to—

Beware of Cursty Sandboys!

No sooner did the alarming intelligence become general among the authorities, than many, anxious to obtain a peep at the singularly-named “swell-mobsman,” congregated round the entrance, where he was still standing, and the innocent Christopher could observe them nudging one another, and whispering, evidently concerning himself, in a way that he did not half like, and could not possibly understand.

The clerk, on his return, proceeded to compare the signature of the present Mr. Sandboys with that of the individual who had made his appearance on the day of the opening.

Observing an evident discrepancy between the two, he beckoned a brother-official to his side, and immediately they both set to work, contrasting the one signature with the other, and looking backwards and forwards in the most mysterious manner at the unoffending Mr. Sandboys.

Christopher, who got more and more bewildered at the manner of the officials, could not for the life of him comprehend what it all meant. At length, however, he heard one of the dozen policemen, who were now grouped close round about him, whisper to another at his elbow that he, Mr. Sandboys, had shaved off his moustachios, while another-officer put his lips close to the ear of a brother official, and said, in an under tone, that he had left his beard behind him.

In an instant the telegraph was at work, communicating the fact to the authorities at each end of the building, and informing them that Cursty Sandboys had come close shaved on the present occasion, and instructing them one and all to keep a sharp eye upon his movements.

Mr. Sandboys, to his horror, at last began to perceive that he was mistaken for no less illustrious a character than M. le Comte de Sanschemise, who had gained admission to the building on the first day by means of Cursty’s season ticket; and that the many policemen who were gathered round him had come with the confident expectation that he had repeated his visit to the establishment in the hopes of abstracting some more valuable prize than on the previous occasion.

The clerk, who had been examining the books, at last ventured to hint to the real Christopher, that there was a marked difference between the signature of Mr. Cursty Sandboys of the first day and the gentleman who now sought to gain admission; and, having previously arranged with the Detective at his elbow, that the safest plan to be pursued would be to make sure of the party then and there, while he was in their power, he proceeded to inform the wretched Mr. Sandboys that it was his duty to give him into custody on a charge of forgery. The Detective had not been able to understand how it was possible for the Cursty Sandboys, who had been committed for trial for stealing the stiletto a few days previously, could make his appearance there, unless he had escaped from prison that morning. This he strongly suspected must have been the case; for he felt satisfied that no one would ever dream of assuming so singular a name, and one, moreover, which at that moment was not in the best public odour. Under all the circumstances, therefore, it was better to secure the party now he was there.

Poor Aggy, when she heard the awful character of the charge that was now made against her darling and innocent Cursty, and saw the policeman proceed to lay hands upon him, swooned right off into the arms of the nearest inspector. The official, however, looking upon the lady as the brazen-faced partner of one of the light-fingered gentry, was in no humour to resort to any gentle restoratives as a means of bringing the lady back to her senses; so, shaking Mrs. Sandboys violently, he, in the most unceremonious manner, said that they were up to all them fainting dodges, and it was no use trying ’em on with them.

It was in vain for Cursty either to expostulate or to explain, for being looked upon as a thief, of course he was treated as one; so that when he endeavoured to make known the real facts of the case, the officers winked their eyes and grinned at one another at what they considered the extreme lameness of the excuse. After he had wasted some ten minutes in attempting to assert and prove his innocence, he was dragged off by two policemen, and being placed in a cab, was conveyed, without loss of time, before the sitting magistrate at the nearest police-office.

There the charge was immediately entered upon, when, the magistrate observing that further proof was required, the Detective prayed for a remand of the prisoner, stating he felt convinced that in a few days he should be able to bring a large body of evidence to bear against the individual, for he was perfectly satisfied that if the party was not the notorious Cursty Sandboys himself, he was at least one of his gang, and had made use of that person’s ticket whilst he was in prison.

Aggy, who, on recovering her senses, had ascertained where her lord and master had been carried, entered the police-court at this precise juncture, and no sooner heard the officer pronounce her husband to belong to a well-known gang of pickpockets, than she insisted upon being heard, and was about to enter into a long family history of her husband and herself, when the magistrate informed her, that unless she would keep silence he should be compelled to have her put out of the court.

Cursty, finding himself likely to be committed to prison, sought to explain to the magistrate how he was a plain country gentleman, come up from Cumberland to enjoy himself and see the Great Exhibition; but his statement was received with no more belief than the excuses of individuals when similarly circumstanced, for the felon’s dock is not exactly the place where a gentleman is likely to obtain much credit for his assertions.

The magistrate, looking sternly at the melancholy Christopher, shook his head, as much as to say that, after what the Detective had stated, the case appeared rather black against him.

Cursty, however, finding himself standing, as it were, on the threshold of a prison, protested his innocence so loudly, and persisted with such pertinacity in his statements, that the magistrate was induced to inquire of the turnkey in attendance whether he knew anything of the prisoner, whereupon the official replied that he remembered the name perfectly well, and having retired to refresh his memory on the subject, returned shortly and stated, that he found Cursty Sandboys had been charged only a short time back with being drunk and disorderly, and incapable of taking care of himself; while the wife of the same “party” had been given into custody about the same time for assaulting the police.

This was more than the blood of Aggy could bear; and immediately she rushed forward and began to enter into an explanation as to how the hussey who had been taken up had used her name at the police-office, after stealing her marriage certificate; but the manner of Mrs. Sandboys was so excited, while her whole story sounded so improbable, that she appeared to the magistrate to be just the kind of woman to commit such an act under the influence of temper.

Accordingly, all things considered, the magistrate decided upon remanding the ill-fated Cursty Sandboys till a future day, and, amid the shrieks of his distracted wife, he was dragged off by the turnkey to be locked up in his cell.

The first Shilling-day——going in——

The first Shilling-day—coming out——

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