Herr Richter, however, is not hurried off to the star chamber where political offenders are dealt with, but is conducted to the Scotland Yard of Vienna—the headquarters of the gendarmerie—the central station for criminal suspects. In Austria it is safer to be classed with common thieves and felons than to be suspected of meddling with politics. So the Herr's mind was materially relieved; though ignominious his fate, on perceiving his destination he scarcely felt enraged at the indignity offered him.
When they had arrived within the gloomy precincts of the gaol barracks, things began to explain themselves. There was evident satisfaction, not to say exultation, on the faces of the officials. The captor was specially gratified; and waving his warrant, as though it were an honorable trophy, over the head of his unfortunate prize, he exclaimed—
"I've captured him at last; I've found him and caught him, this prince of pickpockets!" and he enacted the passion of triumph so perfectly that he jeered at and derided in true Teutonic fashion his safe and sound victim in the most cold-blooded and insolent manner.
"As I was passing down the Kätner Strasse," continued this self-gratulatory detective, "I saw him looking into a goldsmith's shop, noting every article in the window, and heard him muttering to himself, with a most complacent air, 'Any one of them could be mine in a moment if I chose.'"
A superior officer was then called, and the description in the warrant being read over, there could be no doubt as to the identity of the prisoner with the most active and desperate thief in Vienna. The personal appearance of Herr Richter tallied exactly with the written portrait in the possession of the Polizer-Haus; type and antitype could not be more exact.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed the alarmed captive, "I the greatest thief in Vienna! I am Herr Richter, a gentleman, a man of property, rich enough to purchase twenty jewellers' shops. I beg you to be careful how you proceed further."
"Don't excite yourself," retorted the commissioner, "we shall be careful enough. You won't catch us giving you an opportunity of escape."
"Donnerwetter!" ejaculated the now infuriated rentier; "this is too much of a good thing. Just send round for my banker and he will tell you who and what I am. I'll sue you, sir—I'll sue you, sir, as sure as you are born," repeated the Herr, growing more exasperated every moment.
The superintendent, like most men of his profession, was well versed in physiognomy, and could read the features of the human face and interpret their varied expressions. "This is not feigned anger," he said to himself.