The Wayfarers

by J. C. Snaith

"Why do you propose to hang these gentlemen, Tommie?" says this whimsical fellow, with a mockery in his eyes and a curl of the lip that made the justice more uncomfortable than ever. "Have they picked a few hazel-twigs off your honour's footpaths?"

"Oh lord, Harry, I pray you be a little serious," says the justice. "These are gypsies and sheep-stealers; villains and rascals all."

"They are beyond our prayers then," says Harry. "The law must take its course. Even if it could overlook the rape of the mutton, it could never condone the colour of their hair. Lex citius tolerare vult privatum damnum quam publicum malum. There you are as pat and pragmatical as Marcus Tullius Cicero. I tell you, Tommie, the world lost a great lawyer when I became a hackney writer."

While this was going forward I had collected a few of my wits and had determined on the course to pursue. Unless by hook or by crook I could seize these precious moments prior to our committal to prison in which to put myself right or regain my freedom, all chance would be gone. Jack Tiverton was as dear to the law as a sheep-stealing gypsy, and once before a judge I must prove myself to be the one before I could prove I was not the other. Therefore I boldly seized the occasion.

"I beg your worship's pardon," says I, humbly; "but surely you will not commit a man without evidence? And there is not a tittle of evidence against me. I am neither a gypsy nor a sheep-stealer."

I was several times interrupted in the course of this little address by one of our custodians, who continued to pluck at my sleeve, and enjoined me in audible whispers to hold my impertinent tongue. The justice was astounded by my audacity in daring to address him, and grew as red and pompous as a turkey-cock.

"How dare you, fellow, talk to me?" says he. "If I had the power I would commit you twice over for your insolent presumption, yes I would, so help me."

"Yes, Tommie, you would, so help you," says his friend. "The spirit of Hector; ye speak like Priam's son. How dare the fellow ask to hear the evidence when you have had the magnanimity to commit him without it? Does he forget too that when innocence ceases to suffer it will no longer be the highest wisdom to be a rogue?"

I was likely to profit nothing by these protestations of my innocence. This justice was evidently of the worst type of magistrate. He was too high and mighty to imperil his preconceived opinions by entering into the merits of the matter. He was too lofty to argue; too swollen with self-esteem to be affronted with facts. All persons who were brought before him must be guilty of some crime or other, otherwise they would not have come there; and he held that he had discharged his office with credit to himself and with profit to his country when he had impartially committed them to gaol. I soon came to the conclusion therefore that it would be impossible to prevail on a man of this mould with a simple relation of the case, or expect to meet with any suggestion of justice at his hands. I must try a more uncompromising method; and that an exceedingly bold one. I must prove to him beyond all doubt that I was far other than an ignorant gypsy, taking the risk of the revelation of my true identity, and any consequences that might ensue. For that matter if I must go to gaol, I might just as well go there in the role of the defaulting nobleman as in that of the larcenous vagabond.

Disregarding all attempts on the part of the officers of the law to restrain me, I gazed about the spacious apartment with the air I might have worn had it still belonged to me, and says: "The old place is just as it was, I see. But, my good Sir Thomas, it grieves me to observe that you have put your fat aunt by the side of a Rubens; and that you have not scrupled to set a pompous citizen in a tie-wig, who, to judge by a certain consanguinity of expression and countenance, was the illustrous man your father and a cheesemonger at that, cheek by jowl with one of Vandyck's gentlemen."