The first inquiry of the Sandboys in the morning was, as to whether the Comte had entered the establishment in the course of the night? The answer, unfortunately, was in the negative.
What could have become of the man?
On descending to the breakfast-room, however, their suspense was speedily put an end to; for the first words uttered by Mrs. Wewitz, to whom they had communicated the whole of the circumstances immediately on their return, were concerning the fate of the missing gentleman. She placed that morning’s paper in Mr. Sandboys hand; and there, in the police reports, the horrified and enraged Christopher beheld an account as to how a gentleman, of respectable exterior, who gave the name of Mr. Cursty Sandboys, had entered the Exhibition, and been detected in the act of stealing a stiletto, with a silver handle, set with jewels.
Then followed a long account as to how the gentleman, on being committed for trial, had, on entering the prison, refused to put on the prison dress; and how, on being divested of his coat, he was found, although externally “got” up in the most expensive and elaborate manner, to be literally without a shirt to his back—the wrist-bands, of which he made so prodigious a display, being tacked to the cuffs of his coat, and the collar, apparently of his shirt, pinned to his stock. On divesting him of his patent leather boots, it was stated, moreover, that Mr. Cursty Sandboys’ feet were found to be swathed, brigand-fashion, in dirty linen rags.
The veritable Mr. Cursty Sandboys knew not how to act.
From the peculiarity of the name he was satisfied that he, and none other, would be mistaken for the shirtless culprit. The inexperienced native of Buttermere was ignorant of all the ordinary methods by which the error might be rectified, and seeing no way but to sit down patiently under the stigma, he very resignedly submitted to the disgrace, consoling himself with the idea that at least the man would be severely punished for his misdemeanours.
Despite her annoyance at the use of her husband’s name, Mrs. Cursty read the account of the linenless state of the pretended foreign nobleman with a kind of inward satisfaction, complimenting herself continually upon the shrewdness of her suspicions as to the extent of the Frenchman’s wardrobe, and glorying over the punishment of one to whom she attributed so many of her late misfortunes.
The imprisonment of the assumed Comte was a great consolation to the Sandboys, and tended considerably to weaken their determination to quit London without seeing the Great Exhibition.
On reconsidering the matter, it began to appear to them that it would be folly, and betray great want of firmness on their part, if, after all they had gone through during their sojourn in the Great Metropolis, they should return to Cumberland without seeing the very thing which had brought them up to town.
All they wanted was to be able to say they had seen the Exhibition. Mrs. Cursty did not hesitate to confess, that after all she had suffered, she did not, for her part, care whether she saw it or not. All she desired was just to put her nose inside the door, so as not to be obliged to go back and acknowledge that, though they had come up to town for the express purpose of witnessing the Great Exhibition, and paying goodness knows what for season tickets and “new things” they had been “stupids enough” to go back without having had a glimpse at a single article in the Crystal Palace after all.