It is well said that one shilling honestly earned goes farther than pounds obtained by fraud and robbery.
As far as we can gather Peace was not a gambler or a drunkard; indeed, we have not heard that he indulged in excesses of any description. He certainly had a penchant for the opposite sex, but it would appear that he kept under subjection all the females with whom he was connected.
He was tolerably liberal to them—never let them want for anything if he could help it—but certainly did not maintain them on a very extravagant scale.
When returning to his house in Sheffield, he found himself well up in funds, but he said nothing to his wife respecting the sudden accession of wealth.
She, poor woman, doubtless suspected from whence the money had come, but she had the prudence to keep silent on the subject.
Peace had a great objection to be interrogated by any of his family. Indeed, such a course would be sure to put him out of temper, and when in a passion he was a very terrible and vindictive man.
Those about him knew this well enough from bitter experience, and came to the conclusion, therefore, that the wisest course to adopt would be to let him alone and not pester him with vexatious or troublesome questions.
On the morning after his visit to Manchester the gipsy presented himself at Peace’s house. He found him in his workshop with apron on, busily occupied with his frames, as if nothing had happened.
“Well,” cried Bill, “you are a card; blest if you don’t deserve a medal or statue. Never saw such a chap in all my born days. You’re a stunner, and no mistake.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” cried Peace. “Hold your row, and sit down.”