“What dustea mean, man, by three paund fifteen shilling, and a wharter-past nine?” angrily inquired Mr. Sandboys.
“I thought you asked me, what you had to pay, sir, and when the next train left for London.”
“I did nowt of t’ kind, man; and I tell tha plain, I wunnet pay nae mair. I’se paid aboon twa paunds, an’ been carrud twa hunderd meyle out of t’ way awruddy.”
But Mr. Sandboys soon found all opposition was useless. On his leaving the carriage, he was taken between two policemen to the station, and there plainly given to understand, that if the money were not forthcoming, he would have to finish the night in durance vile; and though Cursty was ready to become a martyr, rather than submit to be “imposed upon,” still Mrs. Sandboys was of a different way of thinking, and reminded him of his determination to enjoy himself under all circumstances.
Mr. Sandboys, after some further expostulation, was prevailed upon to do as his wife desired; and accordingly, having paid the three pounds demanded, he and his family made the best of their way to the nearest inn, there—“without a thing to put on,” as Mrs. Sandboys expressed it—to slumber away the hours till morning.
At a quarter-past nine the Sandboys family proceeded to make a third attempt to reach the Metropolis, and for some time nothing occurred to interfere with the progress of their journey. Mr. Sandboys, who, on leaving Edinburgh, had been inclined to believe that the fates had declared he was never to get to London, finding matters proceed so propitiously for so long a period, had just begun to take a more favourable view of his destiny, when, on their arriving at Lancaster, a strange gentleman entered the carriage, which he and his wife and children had previously enjoyed all to themselves.
For awhile all parties remained silent,—the strange gentleman being quietly engaged in examining the Sandboys, while the Sandboys, one and all, did the same for the strange gentleman; and truly the gentleman was so very strange, that the curiosity of his fellow-travellers was not to be wondered at. The lower part of his face was muffled up closely in comforters, his eyes perfectly hidden behind a pair of green spectacles, while his body was enveloped in a large Spanish cloak. On entering he took off his hat, which was one of the patent Gibus folding kind, and, pressing in the sides—much to the Sandboys’ amazement—brought the crown down to the level of the brim. He next proceeded to remove the hair from his head, in the shape of an intensely black wig—disclosing, as he did so, not a bald, but a closely-shaven crown—and to put a seal-skin cap in its place. After this, he slid the green spectacles from before his eyes, carrying with them the large bushy pair of whiskers which were fastened to their sides, and which the moment before had half covered his cheeks; then, discarding his comforters, he unhooked the clasp of his cloak, and revealed the black japan leather of a policeman’s stock, and the tight stand-up collar of a superintendent’s undress uniform.
As the strange gentleman saw the whole eight eyes of the family riveted upon him, he smiled good-humouredly at their amazement; and, turning round to Mr. Sandboys, observed that he perceived they were from the country. Receiving a short reply in the affirmative, he told them they needn’t be alarmed at his making so different an appearance from when he entered the carriage, for it was part of his business to assume a variety of characters.
This set the Sandboys wondering more and more at their fellow-traveller; and the more they marvelled, the more pleased he became, smiling and simpering with evident self-satisfaction. At last, having kept them on the tenter-hooks for some short time, he informed them that he belonged to the Metropolitan Detective Police, and proceeded to give the delighted family a vivid and exciting sketch of his duties.
Impressed as Mr. Sandboys was with the utter wickedness of the city to which he was now rapidly journeying, this one adventure was sufficient, in his mind, to atone for all the previous mishaps of the trip, and he eagerly shifted his seat to that immediately opposite to the strange gentleman, so that he might get, from one so experienced in crime, as full an account of the corrupt ways of London as was possible, in the brief space of time that he and his fellow-traveller had to remain together.