His lordship said he found that the prisoner was convicted at Liverpool in 1859, and sentenced to six years’ imprisonment; in 1854 he was sentenced to four years’ imprisonment; and before that he had been convicted of housebreaking. If he had really been penitent, it was not likely that he would have committed the present offence, and that, too, in a manner which showed that he was prepared to go all lengths in housebreaking. Not only, however, did he commit this burglary, but on the very same night he broke into another house, from which he stole some plate; but that charge would not be gone into. Under the circumstances, his lordship thought he could do no less than sentence him to be kept in penal servitude for the term of seven years. The prisoner then implored permission to be allowed to see his family, and his lordship said the proper authorities would decide that point.
The court then rose.
Peace, when he parted with his wife after his conviction, was sadly borne down. He bitterly regretted having indulged in strong drink. He had indeed put an enemy in his mouth to steal away his brains.
“It’s no use blubbering,” he said to his weeping wife; “it’s done and can’t be helped. I was a fool to muddle myself, and make such a miserable mess of the business; but drink will knock over any man. Look here, now, aint it aggravating to be lagged for years because a chap was stupid enough to be boozing in the morning? It’s hard lines——”
“It’s hard for me, as well as yourself,” returned his companion. “What is to become of us?”
“You must do the best you can, old girl; and when I return I’ll make it up to you. I’ll lead a new life, and cut this sort of business.”
“It’s time you did, Charles. If I thought——”
“Thought be hanged!” interrupted the convict, petulantly; “I tell you I will, and so there’s an end of the matter.”
“Seven years is a long time.”
“I know that, you stupid; I know it from sad experience, and don’t want you to remind me of it. All this is sad enough, but my trouble is about you. It is not so much for myself that I care, but for you. Not, mind you, that a seven years’ stretch is a thing to be proud of or pleased with. It’s a hard sentence, that’s what it is. Ain’t it, guv’nor?”