"You mean your "complice," replied the gaoler. "Yes, he is here, and has recovered his senses. The doctor says he will do very well."
"Has he made any confession?" inquired I.
The gaoler made no reply.
"I ask that question," continued I, "because if he acknowledges who was his accomplice, I shall be set at liberty."
"Very likely," replied the man, sarcastically; "the fact is, there is no occasion for king"s evidence in this case, or you might get off by crossing the water; so you must trust to your luck. The grand jury meet to-day, and I will let you know whether a true bill is found against you or not."
"What is the name of the other man?" inquired I.
"Well, you are a good "un to put a face upon a matter, I will say. You would almost persuade me, with that innocent look of yours, that you know nothing about the business."
"Nor do I," replied I.
"You will be fortunate if you can prove as much, that"s all."
"Still, you have not answered my question: what is the other man"s name?"
"Well," replied the gaoler, laughing, "since you are determined I shall tell you, I will. It must be news to you, with a vengeance. His name is Bill Ogle, _alias_ Swamping Bill. I suppose you never heard that name before?"
"I certainly never did," replied I.
"Perhaps you do not know your own name? Yet I can tell it you, for Bill Ogle has blown upon you so far."
"Indeed," replied I; "and what name has he given to me?"
"Why, to do him justice, it wasn"t until he saw a copy of the depositions before the magistrates, and heard how you were nabbed in trying to help him off, that he did tell it; and then he said, "Well, Phill Maddox always was a true "un, and I"m mortal sorry that he"s in for"t, by looking a"ter me." Now do you know your own name?"
"I certainly do not," replied I.
"Well, did you ever hear of one who went by the name of Phill Maddox?"
"I never did," replied I; "and I am glad that Ogle has disclosed so much."
"Well, I never before met with a man who didn"t know his own name, or had the face to say so, and expect to be believed; but never mind, you are right to be cautious, with the halter looking you in the face."
"O G.o.d! O G.o.d!" exclaimed I, throwing myself on the bedstead, and covering up my face, "give me strength to bear even that, if so it must be."
The gaoler looked at me for a time. "I don"t know what to make of him-- he puzzles me quite, certainly. Yet it"s no mistake."
"It is a mistake," replied I, rising; "but whether the mistake will be found out until too late, is another point. However, it is of little consequence. What have I to live for,--unless to find out who is my father?"
"Find out your father! what"s in the wind now? well, it beats my comprehension altogether. But did not you say you wished me to get you something?"
"Yes," replied I; and I gave him some money, with directions to purchase me implements for writing, some scented wax, a tooth-brush, and tooth-powder, eau de cologne, hair-brush and comb, razors, small looking-gla.s.s, and various implements for my toilet.
"This is a rum world," said the man, repeating what I asked for, as I put two guineas in his hand. "I"ve purchased many an article for a prisoner, but never heard of such rattletraps afore; however, that be all the same. You will have them, though what _ho de colum_ is I can"t tell, nor dang me if I shall recollect--not poison, be it, for that is not allowed in the prison?"
"No, no," replied I, indulging in momentary mirth at the idea; "you may inquire, and you will find that it"s only taken by ladies who are troubled with the vapours."
"Now I should ha" thought that you"d have spent your money in the cookshop, which is so much more natural. However, we all have our fancies;" so saying, he flitted the cell, and locked the door.
PART THREE, CHAPTER SIX.
I AM CONDEMNED TO BE HUNG BY THE NECK UNTIL I AM DEAD, AND TO GO OUT OF THE WORLD WITHOUT FINDING OUT WHO IS MY FATHER--AFTERWARDS MY INNOCENCE IS MADE MANIFEST, AND I AM TURNED ADRIFT A MANIAC IN THE HIGH ROAD.
It may appear strange to the reader that I sent for the above-mentioned articles, but habit is second nature, and although, two days before, when I set out on my pilgrimage, I had resolved to discard these superfluities, yet now in my distress I felt as if they would comfort me. That evening, after rectifying a few mistakes on the part of the good-tempered gaoler, by writing down what I wanted on the paper which he had procured me, I obtained all that I required.
The next morning he informed me that the grand jury had found a true bill against me, and that on the Sat.u.r.day next the a.s.sizes would be held. He also brought me the list of trials, and I found that mine would be one of the last, and would not probably come on until Monday or Tuesday. I requested him to send for a good tailor, as I wished to be dressed in a proper manner, previous to appearing in court. As a prisoner is allowed to go into court in his own clothes instead of the gaol dress, this was consented to; and when the man came, I was very particular in my directions, so much so, that it surprised him. He also procured me the other articles I required to complete my dress, and on Sat.u.r.day night I had them all ready; for I was resolved that I would at least die as a gentleman.
Sunday pa.s.sed away, not as it ought to have pa.s.sed, certainly.
I attended prayers, but my thoughts were elsewhere--how, indeed, could it be otherwise? Who can control his thoughts? He may attempt so to do, but the attempt is all that can be made. He cannot command them. I heard nothing, my mind was in a state of gyration, whirling round from one thing to the other, until I was giddy from intensity of feeling.
On Monday morning the gaoler came and asked me whether I would have legal advice. I replied in the negative. "You will be called about twelve o"clock, I hear," continued he; "it is now ten, and there is only one more trial before yours, about the stealing of four geese, and half a dozen fowls."
"Good G.o.d!" thought I, "and am I mixed up with such deeds as these?" I dressed myself with the utmost care and precision, and never was more successful. My clothes were black, and fitted well. About one o"clock I was summoned by the gaoler, and led between him and another to the court-house, and placed in the dock. At first my eyes swam, and I could distinguish nothing, but gradually I recovered. I looked round, for I had called up my courage. My eyes wandered from the judge to the row of legal gentlemen below him; from them to the well-dressed ladies who sat in the gallery above; behind me I did not look. I had seen enough, and my cheeks burnt with shame. At last I looked at my fellow-culprit, who stood beside me, and his eyes at the same time met mine. He was dressed in the gaol clothes, of pepper and salt coa.r.s.e cloth. He was a rough, vulgar, brutal-looking man, but his eye was brilliant, his complexion was dark, and his face was covered with whiskers. "Good heavens!"
thought I, "who will ever imagine or credit that we have been a.s.sociates?"
The man stared at me, bit his lip, and smiled with contempt, but made no further remark. The indictment having been read, the clerk of the court cried out, "You, Benjamin Ogle, having heard the charge, say, guilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty," replied the man, to my astonishment.
"You, Philip Maddox, guilty or not guilty?"
I did not answer.
"Prisoner," observed the judge in a mild voice, "you must answer, Guilty or Not guilty. It is merely a form."
"My lord," replied I, "my name is not Philip Maddox."
"That is the name given in the indictment by the evidence of your fellow-prisoner," observed the judge; "your real name we cannot pretend to know. It is sufficient that you answer to the question of whether you, the prisoner, are guilty or not guilty."
"Not guilty, my lord, most certainly," replied I, placing my hand to my heart, and bowing to him.
The trial proceeded; Armstrong was the princ.i.p.al evidence. To my person he would not swear. The Jew proved my selling my clothes, purchasing those found in the bundle, and the stick, of which Armstrong possessed himself. The clothes I had on at the time of my capture were produced in court. As for Ogle, his case was decisive. We were then called upon for our defence. Ogle"s was very short. "He had been accustomed to fits all his life--was walking to Hounslow, and had fallen down in a fit. It must have been somebody else who had committed the robbery and had made off, and he had been picked up in a mistake." This defence appeared to make no other impression than ridicule, and indignation at the barefaced a.s.sertion. I was then called on for mine.
"My lord," said I, "I have no defence to make except that which I a.s.serted before the magistrates, that I was performing an act of charity towards a fellow-creature, and was, through that, supposed to be an accomplice. Arraigned before so many upon a charge, at the bare accusation of which my blood revolts, I cannot and will not allow those who might prove what my life has been, and the circ.u.mstances which induced me to take up the disguise in which I was taken, to appear in my behalf. I am unfortunate, but not guilty. One only chance appears to be open to me, which is, in the candour of the party who now stands by me. If he will say to the court that he ever saw me before, I will submit without murmur to my sentence."
"I"m sorry that you"ve put that question, my boy," replied the man, "for I have seen you before;" and the wretch chuckled with repressed laughter.
I was so astonished, so thunderstruck with this a.s.sertion, that I held down my head, and made no reply. The judge then summed up the evidence to the jury, pointing out to them that of Ogle"s guilt there could be no doubt, and of mine, he was sorry to say, but little. Still they must bear in mind that the witness Armstrong could not swear to my person.
The jury, without leaving the box, consulted together a short time, and brought in a verdict of guilty against Benjamin Ogle and Philip Maddox.
I heard no more--the judge sentenced us both to execution: he lamented that so young and prepossessing a person as myself should be about to suffer for such an offence: he pointed out the necessity of condign punishment, and gave us no hopes of pardon or clemency. But I heard him not--I did not fall, but I was in a state of stupor. At last, he wound up his sentence by praying us to prepare ourselves for the awful change, by an appeal to that heavenly Father. "Father!" exclaimed I, in a voice which electrified the court, "did you say my father? O G.o.d! where is he?" and I fell down in a fit. The handkerchiefs of the ladies were applied to their faces, the whole court were moved, for I had, by my appearance, excited considerable interest, and the judge, with a faltering, subdued voice, desired that the prisoners might be removed.
"Stop one minute, my good fellow," said Ogle, to the gaoler, while others were taking me out of court. "My lord, I"ve something rather important to say. Why I did not say it before, you shall hear. You are a judge, to condemn the guilty, and release the innocent. We are told that there is no trial like an English jury, but this I say, that many a man is hung for what he never has been guilty of. You have condemned that poor young man to death. I could have prevented it if I had chosen to speak before, but I would not, that I might prove how little there is of justice. He had nothing to do with the robbery--Phill Maddox was the man, and he is not Philip Maddox. He said that he never saw me before, nor do I believe that he ever did. As sure as I shall hang, he is innocent."