Further on he met Thompson, moving along with rapid strides and carrying an ugly-looking whip in his hand, which he was handling in a nervous yet vicious style.
“Good morning, Mr. Thompson,” said Mr. Long, adding, “Mrs. Thompson is just a little before you.”
Long held out his hand, which Thompson shook as usual, then nodding quickly, said “Good morning—I’m in a hurry,” and he expedited his walk till he overtook her he was after, and then they slowly returned to the house together.
What happened there did not transpire till some time after, when Mrs. Thompson took to pouring into Mrs. Long’s sympathetic ears the story of her “married” life at No. 5.
Thompson, when he got her inside, used his whip about the wretch’s shoulders, and beat her with the butt end of the stock, to frighten her into doing what he wanted.
The fact was, he began to be suspicious, and as a consequence his usual caution forsook him.
That scene in the street, which took place some two months before his capture by Robinson, was the most impudent thing he did at Peckham, and there is reason to believe that he was then contemplating another change of residence, where Mrs. Thompson’s tales would be in less danger of getting through the neighbours to the police.
Had he not “tried” that house at Blackheath, or had he succeeded in doing it and getting off, Peckham would speedily have lost the society of the independent gentleman with the interesting household.
Peace’s life at this time must have been something terrible to think of—that is, assuming he had any feeling or conscience, which, to say the truth, is very questionable.
With all his cunning he must have been in constant fear of detection.