Before the lady had time to insert her autograph in the official register, the clerk begged to be excused, saying he was called away upon important business; and, proceeding to some of his brother officials, he informed them that the impudent thief Cursty Sandboys had dared to seek admission at the Crystal Palace once more.
In an instant, the news that the expert Cursty Sandboys, the pickpocket, was about to enter the building, spread throughout the Crystal Palace, literally with the rapidity of lightning, for the electric telegraph was immediately set to work, telling the officials, one and all, to—
Beware of Cursty Sandboys!
No sooner did the alarming intelligence become general among the authorities, than many, anxious to obtain a peep at the singularly-named “swell-mobsman,” congregated round the entrance, where he was still standing, and the innocent Christopher could observe them nudging one another, and whispering, evidently concerning himself, in a way that he did not half like, and could not possibly understand.
The clerk, on his return, proceeded to compare the signature of the present Mr. Sandboys with that of the individual who had made his appearance on the day of the opening.
Observing an evident discrepancy between the two, he beckoned a brother-official to his side, and immediately they both set to work, contrasting the one signature with the other, and looking backwards and forwards in the most mysterious manner at the unoffending Mr. Sandboys.
Christopher, who got more and more bewildered at the manner of the officials, could not for the life of him comprehend what it all meant. At length, however, he heard one of the dozen policemen, who were now grouped close round about him, whisper to another at his elbow that he, Mr. Sandboys, had shaved off his moustachios, while another-officer put his lips close to the ear of a brother official, and said, in an under tone, that he had left his beard behind him.
In an instant the telegraph was at work, communicating the fact to the authorities at each end of the building, and informing them that Cursty Sandboys had come close shaved on the present occasion, and instructing them one and all to keep a sharp eye upon his movements.
Mr. Sandboys, to his horror, at last began to perceive that he was mistaken for no less illustrious a character than M. le Comte de Sanschemise, who had gained admission to the building on the first day by means of Cursty’s season ticket; and that the many policemen who were gathered round him had come with the confident expectation that he had repeated his visit to the establishment in the hopes of abstracting some more valuable prize than on the previous occasion.
The clerk, who had been examining the books, at last ventured to hint to the real Christopher, that there was a marked difference between the signature of Mr. Cursty Sandboys of the first day and the gentleman who now sought to gain admission; and, having previously arranged with the Detective at his elbow, that the safest plan to be pursued would be to make sure of the party then and there, while he was in their power, he proceeded to inform the wretched Mr. Sandboys that it was his duty to give him into custody on a charge of forgery. The Detective had not been able to understand how it was possible for the Cursty Sandboys, who had been committed for trial for stealing the stiletto a few days previously, could make his appearance there, unless he had escaped from prison that morning. This he strongly suspected must have been the case; for he felt satisfied that no one would ever dream of assuming so singular a name, and one, moreover, which at that moment was not in the best public odour. Under all the circumstances, therefore, it was better to secure the party now he was there.