‘But surely a man may walk in a new country, if he likes?’ pleaded Ernest, half amused at his arguing the question so seriously with a swindler and convicted felon.
‘Excuse me,’ answered the man of experience, with the readiness of a practical advocate; ‘you might drive a tax-cart down Rotten Row, or wear a wideawake and a tourist suit at a flower-show, as far as the power to do so is concerned. But you wouldn’t do it, because it would be unfashionable, therefore incorrect. It’s unfashionable for a gentleman to walk in this country, therefore nobody does walk on a journey, except labourers, drunkards, persons of bad character like me, or inexperienced young gentlemen like you.’
‘Many thanks for your neat explanation and wholesome advice,’ said Ernest. ‘I don’t know whether I shall not act upon it.’
‘And may you better rede the advice than ever did the adviser,’ quoted the Captain gravely, sonorously, and in final conclusion.
Next morning, after experiencing what fully justified Clarence’s exclamation, Mr. Neuchamp and his fellow-traveller were ‘haled’ before the stipendiary magistrate, who looked at Mr. Neuchamp in a manner so unsympathising that it hurt his feelings.
‘John Lulworth Broughton,’ said the trooper, in a loud matter-of-fact voice, ‘alias Captain Spinks, alias the Knight of Malta, and Ernest Neuchum appears before this court, in custody, your worship, charged with robbery under arms. How do you plead?’
‘Not guilty, of course,’ replied the Captain, with a shocked expression.
‘Not guilty,’ said Ernest, in an anxious and horrified tone; ‘I wish to explain, I am travelling to the station of——’
‘Any statement that you or the other prisoner may wish to make, after the evidence is complete, I shall be happy to hear. Until then,’ said the police magistrate, with mild but icy intonation, ‘I must request you to keep silence, except when cross-examining the witnesses for the Crown.’
Ernest felt outraged and choked. The evidence then being ‘gone into,’ showed how a certain bank manager at a lonely branch had been awakened at midnight by two men masked and armed; one tall, dark, spoke with a fashionable drawl; the other middle-sized, active, fair-haired, with blue eyes, about twenty-four, spoke rather slowly. Here the police magistrate, the clerk of the bench, the spectators, and the other police constable turned their heads towards Mr. Neuchamp. ‘Speaks like a native. Ah! very strong point.’