“No, sir,” answered the justice; “a breach of trust is no crime in our law, unless it be in a servant; and then the act of parliament requires the goods taken to be of the value of forty shillings.”
“So then a servant,” cries Booth, “may rob his master of thirty-nine shillings whenever he pleases, and he can’t be punished.”
“If the goods are under his care, he can’t,” cries the justice.
“I ask your pardon, sir,” says Booth. “I do not doubt what you say; but sure this is a very extraordinary law.”
“Perhaps I think so too,” said the justice; “but it belongs not to my office to make or to mend laws. My business is only to execute them. If therefore the case be as you say, I must discharge the girl.”
“I hope, however, you will punish the pawnbroker,” cries Booth.
“If the girl is discharged,” cries the justice, “so must be the pawnbroker; for, if the goods are not stolen, he cannot be guilty of receiving them knowing them to be stolen. And, besides, as to his offence, to say the truth, I am almost weary of prosecuting it; for such are the difficulties laid in the way of this prosecution, that it is almost impossible to convict any one on it. And, to speak my opinion plainly, such are the laws, and such the method of proceeding, that one would almost think our laws were rather made for the protection of rogues than for the punishment of them.”
Thus ended this examination: the thief and the receiver went about their business, and Booth departed in order to go home to his wife.
In his way home Booth was met by a lady in a chair, who, immediately upon seeing him, stopt her chair, bolted out of it, and, going directly up to him, said, “So, Mr. Booth, you have kept your word with me.”
The lady was no other than Miss Matthews, and the speech she meant was of a promise made to her at the masquerade of visiting her within a day or two; which, whether he ever intended to keep I cannot say, but, in truth, the several accidents that had since happened to him had so discomposed his mind that he had absolutely forgot it.