“I never see him and never wish to do so; he was my friend—he is now my bitterest enemy. I suppose you have heard of Dandy Sutherland, as he is termed.”
Mrs. Grover turned pale. “Eh,” she murmured, “Then my boy has fallen into his hands? All is lost, all is lost.”
“Dandy Sutherland is the Bully Grand of the Forty Thieves, and the standing toast of every boozing ken between Westminster and Whitechapel. While other men have been content to shine in one branch of the profession, the Dandy has made himself master of them all, and is equally notorious as a drummer, as a mobsman, a shofuller, a smasher, and a cracksman. In this last capacity he is only surpassed by the celebrated and famous Charles Peace, who surpasses all others as a daring and accomplished burglar.”
The Dandy, therefore, is not to be named in the same day with Charles Peace, but he has other accomplishments—practises other forms of villainy which Peace never attempted.
“Gracious heaven! Can this be possible?”
“It is not only possible, but true.”
“Admit that it is so, but this does not help me to find my son. Where is my boy?”
“His genius for calculation would have made his fortune at cards before the hells were abolished,” observed Miss Stanbridge, not taking any heed of her companion’s queries. “And could he obtain an entrée into the ‘Ottoman’ or ‘Cocoa-nut Tree,’ where hundreds of pounds are frequently staked upon a game, his skill at billiards would speedily enrich him.”
“And is he not rich now?” inquired the other, stifling her rage that she might obtain the information she desired.
“He was not rich when I last saw him; on the contrary, he was poor, but this is some time ago. I have not seen anything of him for a long time past. He is unsettled and extravagant. Besides, he is an unprincipled corrupter of our own sex, and so spends more thought upon vice than upon crime. Vice is a safe game because it is played at by all the aristocracy, but it is the reverse of lucrative.”