“I deny it,” replied the incorrigible rogue, as he rose slowly, cursing between his teeth.
I searched the house, but the watch was never recovered. The three were brought to the High Court. It was a difficult case, in consequence of the darkness of the scene, which prevented recognition of Kidd; but a strange circumstance supplied the want. Mr —— could swear that Kidd had a large hard wart upon the right hand—the rough pressure of which in his neck had pained him so as to leave an impression on his mind. The wart was found still upon the thumb. Then the watch-key served its purpose, and it was found that Kidd was the daily associate of the women. They were each transported for fourteen years.
The Half-Crowns.
I HAVE often thought we are a little mole-eyed in social questions. How much were we to have paid the devil for our letting in mental food to the people, for the introduction of machinery, for giving up hanging poor wretches! and yet we have paid him nothing,—all movements coming to a poise. When I lay hold of a robber by the throat, we have a tussle, but it does not last long. Either he or I may be down; we don’t murder each other; the forces destroy themselves, and there’s peace. Where is all the expected crop of forgeries and coinings that were to spring up under the spread of the guano of education? The art of learning to write was to be the learning to forge, and electro-plating (if I can spell it) was to turn off half-crowns by the thousand. Nothing of all this. The people are better fed, the working men better employed, fewer murders, fewer forgeries, fewer coinings. I think we have rather taken from his majesty below, and I suspect he is fretful. What a fury we would put him in were we to take the young from him, of whom, in a certain class, he has had the charge since Adam coined that bad penny, Cain!
So I thought, when I told the story of the pewter spoons. I thought I had not another case of coining in my books; but I find I was wrong. Not long ago, in November 1858, I happened (I was always happening) to meet, at the foot of the stair leading to Ashley Buildings, in Nether Bow, near John Knox’s Church, a clot of little boys and girls busy looking at some wonderful things, with eyes as bright and round as a new-turned-out shilling. On bending my head over the little people, and directing my eyes down through the midst of them, I found that the objects of their delight were a number (turned out to be a dozen) of beautiful glittering half-crowns and florins, all new from the mint. Was ever a nest of Raggediers shone upon with a blaze of such glory! Did ever her Majesty’s face appear so beautiful to any of her loyal subjects!
On inquiry, I found that the urchins, when playing in the stair of Ashley Buildings, had found the pieces secreted in the corners of two window-soles. They were placed outside, so that any person going up the stair could reach them without entering any of the flats. I examined the places of deposit under the direction of my leaders—six of the pieces were on the window-sole of the first flat, and the other six on that of the highest. Then they had been cunningly placed in small-scooped crevices, close by the rybats. On coming down with my coins in my hand, and my troop around me, all chattering and vindicating their rights to the waifs, I was a little taken aback by the appearance of two ladies coming up the dark, dingy stair. At the first glance, and under the impression of the rustle of their heavy silk skirts, I took them for philanthropical grandees from the New Town on a visit of mercy to the hags of Ashley Land; and no wonder, for the very gayest of our crinolined nymphs, so far as regarded silk velvet and ribbons, were not qualified to tie the latchet of one of their boots. Nor was my impression changed when, standing to a side to give space to the swirl of their wide skirts, as well as honour to their progress, I looked respectfully, if not with a little awe (not much in my way) into their faces,—delicate, pretty, genteel, nor with a single indication of the flaunting lightness sometimes, in my experience, accompanying, but not adorning very gay attire.
On ascending two steps above me, one of them turned round, and, with an inquiring gaze, asked what was the matter, in a clear, bell-like voice, which was to me at the moment perhaps the more musical, because it came from such a delicate throat; but the speech was English, and we want that spoken music in Scotland,—at least there’s not much of it among the denizens of Ashley Land.
“A little row among the boys,” said I, just as a suddenly rising thought suggested something,—I won’t say what.
“He’s ta’en our half-croons, mem,” cried a bantam, whose windpipe I could have squeezed.
Upon hearing which, my ladies turned somewhat abruptly, and proceeded down stairs. I could even fancy that the noise of their silks was increased by a flurry,—a movement altogether which I could not, even with the aid of my sudden thought, very well understand. On getting to the foot of the stair, and quit of my brawlers, I observed my two damsels walking majestically up the High Street, as if they had utterly forgotten their visit of mercy, for which their purses, and probably their Bibles, had been put in preparation. I had intercepted grace, condescension, and mercy, even when about to light, like ministering angels, on the hearts and homes of the miserable. Well, another time—mercy is long-suffering.