INTERIOR OF AN ENGLISH CONVICT PRISON.
"I purchased a ticket and hastened into a carriage, where, lo and behold! sat the two detectives. A few minutes brought us to Cork again. I was not yet aware they were in possession of my right name and the knowledge that a reward of £5,000 was offered for my capture, nor that their hesitation was occasioned by doubts as to my identity, which the first false step on my part might remove. I did not suppose they were looking especially for me, but for any one in general whose actions and appearance might indicate that he was one of the operators in the bank forgery. Under this erroneous belief I crossed to the Dublin station, which was a quarter of a mile from that of the Cork and Queenstown. As I entered the waiting room I saw my two detectives standing at the other side. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'this is very strange; I left the Queenstown station ahead of them and here they are again, all alive!' I walked away into the most thronged streets of the business part of the city; turning a corner I glanced backward and saw them following at some distance in the rear. As soon as I had fairly turned the corner I started at a fast walk, turning the next before they came in view, and after three or four such turnings I went into a small temperance hotel and took lodgings for the night. There was but a single commercial traveler in the sitting room—a special room set apart in every English hotel, sacred to the 'drummer' fraternity. In the course of the evening he handed me a small railway map of Ireland, which, in my subsequent flight through the country, proved of incalculable service to me.
"The next morning I went out and purchased a handbag, a Scotch cap and a cheap frieze ulster. My night's cogitations had not enabled me to solve the detective problem, but I felt confident that something was decidedly wrong. I then hired a covered cab, driving past the postoffice to recoinnoitre, and saw one of the detectives standing in the doorway. This sight deterred me from going in to ask for a letter. Dismissing my cab, I took another and drove to the place where I had made my purchases, taking them into the cab and going through a by-street which brought me close to my hotel.
"From the commercial room in the second floor front I looked out and marked the farthest house I could see to the left on the opposite side. Stepping to the desk I wrote an order directing the postmaster to deliver any letters to my address to the bearer. This I gave to a cabman, instructing him to drive to the postoffice and bring my mail to the house I had marked, returning myself to the commercial room to watch. In a few minutes I saw the cabman drive to the house, and seeing no one waiting there, he turned and drove slowly down the street past the hotel, holding up at arm's length a letter to attract my notice—which it did to my two detectives walking along a short distance behind him, on the hotel side of the street, with noses elevated and eyes peering everywhere.
"'Well,' I thought, 'this is getting to be hot, and it is time for me to leave Cork.' I was now fully aroused to a sense of my danger. No one happening to be in the commercial room for the moment, I left my hat on the sofa, and wearing the Scotch cap, slipped downstairs just as they were past the hotel, following them until I came to where the cab was waiting with my luggage. I ordered the driver to take me to a canal-boat wharf, where I dismissed him; then, with bag in hand, I walked across the canal bridge, stopped in a small shop and hired a smaller boy to go for a jaunting car, and a few minutes later I was rolling to the northward.
"On the road I threw some small coins to poor-looking people, who then, as now, comprised among their numbers the most honest patriots and the truest-hearted sons of Erin.
"Seeing me throwing the pence to the poor folk, cabby took it into his head that I must be a priest—a good criterion of the estimation in which the benevolence of the fathers is held by their own people. And I may here remark that all the Catholic priests I have known, occupying the post of chaplain, were without exception faithful and entirely devoted to the duties of their holy calling. I had no intention of traveling as a priest, and when I told the driver as much he would not believe it, but insisted that I was really a priest traveling incognito; therefore, when we stopped at a small wayside tavern, about twelve miles from Cork and two to Fermoy, he privately informed the mistress that I was a priest who did not want the fact to become known. Accordingly the good woman treated me with marked attention during my short stay. It was then nearly sunset, and as I did not wish the cabman to get back to Cork until late at night, I kept him eating and drinking until dark, when I paid the bill and started him homeward, uproariously rejoicing. I then started for Fermoy station, about two miles distant, taking the hostler along to carry my bag. When within half a mile of the village I let him return. While passing through the village I went into a shop and purchased a different Scotch cap, the 'Glengarry.'
"Arriving at the station, I noticed a man near the ticket office who appeared to be watching those who were purchasing tickets. This made me change my plan—instead of taking a ticket to Dublin, I bought one for Lismore, the end of the road in the opposite direction. The exclamation, 'Well, are you going to stay all night?' was the first intimation I had of our arrival at that place. I rubbed my sleepy eyes, and saw with dismay that all the passengers were gone and one of the porters was putting out the lights. At the platform I found a cab, and by 9 p.m. I was at the Lismore House. After eating supper I entered the sitting room, finding a single occupant whom I took to be a lawyer, and judging by his conversation and manner, in the light of later events, I do not doubt that he surmised who I was. He was reading a newspaper, which he once or twice offered to me; but, not dreaming of the interesting nature of its contents, I declined to take it from him. About 10 o'clock the gentleman retired, leaving his paper on the table. I carelessly picked it up, and the first thing that caught my eyes was a displayed heading in large type, offering £5,000 reward for my arrest.
"A thunderbolt, indeed! For a few minutes I stared at the paper in blank dismay. It was fortunate for my temporary safety that there were no witnesses present. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'this is a predicament! How did they obtain any clue to me? I thought we had covered up the whole affair so deep in mystery that not a clue to our personality could ever be obtained!'