"Oh, if it's only a fine," remarked the prisoner, feeling much relieved, "I'll pay it and welcome, rather than have a row."
"Maybe you won't have the option," replied one of his captors; while the other added cheerfully: "What you needs is thirty days, and I 'opes you'll get it."
At the police court Scarsdale did not help his case by insisting on giving his right name, and denying all knowledge of the charge. His statements were entered against him, he was relieved of his watch, purse, and jewellery, and introduced to the cold comforts of the lock-up.
On being asked if he wished to communicate with any one, he replied that the next morning would be quite time enough; for he knew that Mrs. Allingford could give him little help in his present predicament, and he did not wish to disturb her night's rest to no purpose.
It can be well imagined that the accommodations of an English provincial prison are not luxurious; but the room was clean, and fortune favoured him in that he had only two companions, both of whom were stupid drunk, and went to sleep very peaceably on the floor.
Scarsdale improvised a bed on a settee, and, using his coat as a pillow, passed a fairly comfortable night. Luckily he was of a somewhat phlegmatic temperament, and withal very tired after the day's exertions; so, in spite of the misfortunes which were crowding about him, he was able to resign himself to the inevitable, and eventually to drop off to sleep.
Early next morning, however, he arranged to have a note delivered to Mrs. Allingford at the hotel, in which he informed that lady of his unfortunate predicament, begging her not to distress herself on his account; and assuring her that in all probability it was merely a matter of a trifling fine, and that he should be at liberty to rejoin her within a few hours.
He felt very little of what he wrote; but as long as there was a chance of things coming out right, he wished to spare her all possible worry.
His ready money procured him a better breakfast than he could have hoped for, and by nine o'clock, when the court opened, he was refreshed and ready for whatever might befall. His two companions in misfortune preceded him for trial, but their cases were soon disposed of, and Harold Scarsdale, alias Richard Allingford, was put into the dock.
The court-room consisted of a plainly furnished apartment, containing a raised platform at one end, on which were placed the desk and armchair of the police magistrate, while in front were several rows of benches for the accommodation of the public: but as the cases were of no general interest, Scarsdale was relieved to see that the attendance was meagre. Mrs. Allingford was present, however, looking very white and distressed, but managing to muster up a smile to greet him as he entered.