Recollections of a Policeman

  Part VI.

  THE PURSUIT

  The reader need scarcely be told that albeit police-officers like othermen, chiefly delight to recount their _successful_ exploits, they do,nevertheless, experience numerous and vexatious failures anddisappointments. One especially I remember, of which the irritatingrecollection did not pass away for many weeks. I had been for some timein pursuit of a rather eminent rascal, though one young in years, and bymarriage respectably connected, who, by an infamous abuse of the trustreposed in him by the highly-respectable firm who employed him, hadcontrived to possess himself of a large sum of money, with which, or atleast with the portion of it falling to his share--for we discoveredthat he had been for some time connected with a gang of first-rateswindlers--he hoped to escape to America. The chase was hot after him;and spite of all his doublings and turnings, and the false scentsadroitly thrown out by his confederates with the view to favor hisescape, I at last fairly ran him to earth at Plymouth, though in whatprecise spot of it he burrowed I could not for the moment ascertain.Neither was I well acquainted with his features; but in the descriptionof his person furnished me there were certain indelible marks enumeratedwhich, upon strict examination, could not fail to determine hisidentity. He purposed, I ascertained, to attempt leaving England in abarque bound for New York, which was to sail from Plymouth on the dayafter I arrived there. Of this I was fully satisfied, and I determinedto capture him on board. Accordingly, about half an hour before the shipwas to sail, and after all the passengers had embarked, two of the localofficers and I got into a boat which I had some time previously engagedto be in readiness, and put off to the vessel. The wind was decidedlyfair for the emigrant ship; and so stiffly did it blow from thenorth-east, that four hands, I was informed, were required, not indeedto convey us swiftly out, but to pull the boat back against the wind,and the strong tide which would be running outside the breakwater. Thesea dashed smartly at times over the boat, and the men pulled theirsou'-wester caps well over their eyes, to shield themselves from theblinding spray. We were speedily on board; and the captain, althoughmuch annoyed at the delay, paraded his motley passengers as well as crewbefore us; but to my extreme surprise our bird was not amongst them!Every possible and impossible hiding-place was thoroughly but vainlysearched; and we were at length compelled to a reluctant admission thatthe gentleman we were in quest of, had not yet honored the captain ofthe _Columbia_ with his patronage.

  We sullenly returned into the boat; and the instant we did so, theanchor, already atrip, was brought home; the ship's bows fell rapidlyoff; her crowded canvass dilated and swelled in the spanking breeze, andshe sprang swiftly off upon her course. It was a pretty and somewhatexciting spectacle; and I and my companions continued to watch thesmartly-handled vessel with much interest till a point of land hid herfrom our view. We then turned our faces towards Plymouth, from which, Iwas surprised to find, we were apparently as distant as ever. "The tide,let alone the wind, is dead against us!" growled the master of the boat,who was now pulling the near oar, in reply to a remark from one of thePlymouth officers. This man had steered on going out. A quick suspicionflashed across me. "Where is the other boatman who came out with us?" Isharply demanded. The old seaman, instead of replying, turned himselfhalf round towards the weather-bow oar, exclaiming, "Easy, Billy--easy;let her nose lay a little closer to the wind!" This, I readily saw, wasdone to conceal a momentary confusion, arising from the suddenness of myquestion--a very slight one by the by, for the fellow was an oldman-of-war's man, with a face hardened and bronzed by service, weather,grog, and tobacco smoke. I repeated the question in a more peremptorytone. The veteran first deliberately squirted a mouthful of tobaccojuice over the side, and then with an expression of his cast-iron phiz,which it is impossible by words to convey a distinct idea of, socompounded was it of diabolical squint, lamb-like simplicity, andimpudent cunning, replied, "That wor a passenger to Yankee Land--a goin'there, I'm purty suspicious, for the benefit of his health." I looked atthe Plymouth officers, and they at me. The impudent ingenuity of thetrick that had been played us seemed scarcely credible."He--he--ho--ho!" rumbled out of the tobacco-stifled throat of the oldrogue, "If he wor somebody you wanted, it wor uncommon well done. Didn'tyou obsarve him jump into the main chains of the barkey jist as you worleavin' on her, and cast us off a minute afterwards? He perfarredstoppin' with us whilst you wor rummagin' the hooker--he--he--ho--ho!"

  It was useless bandying words with the fellow; and though I feltdesperately savage, I had sense enough to hold my tongue. "Pullsmartly," said one of the Plymouth officers; "a shot will bring her tooyet."

  "Why, ay," rejoined the imperturbable seaman; "it mout, if you couldget speech of the admiral in time; but I'm thinkin' we shall be a goodwhile yet pullin' in against this choppin' wind and head sea."

  And sure enough they were! More than another hour, by some boatman-craftunexplainable by me, for the sailors apparently rowed with all theirmight, were we in reaching the landing-place; and by that time allchance of compelling the return of the _Columbia_ was long past.

  It would be, I knew, impossible to _prove_ complicity on the part of theowner of the boat with the escaped felon, and I preferred to digest thevenom of my spleen in silence, rather than by a useless display of it toadd to the chuckling delight of the old rascal of a boatman.

  We had passed some distance along the quay when one of the localofficers, addressing a youngish sailor, who, with folded arms and ashort pipe in his mouth was standing in philosophical contemplation ofthe sea and weather, said, "I suppose there is no chance of the emigrantship that sailed a while ago putting in at any other port along thecoast?"

  The man took the pipe from his mouth, regarded the questioner for a fewmoments with an expression of contemptuous curiosity anything butflattering to its object, and bawled out, addressing himself to aweather-beaten seaman a few yards off, "I say, Tom Davis, here's a BlueBottle as wants to know the name and bearins of the port off the Land'sEnd which the barkey that sailed awhile agone for Ameriker with anorth-easter kicking her endways is likely to bring up in: I'm notacquainted with it myself or else I'd tell the gentleman."

  The laugh from two or three bystanders which followed this sally greatlyirritated the officer, and he would have indulged in an angry reply hadnot his more prudent comrade taken him by the arm and urged him away.

  "Ay, ay," said the veteran addressed as Tom Davis, as we were passinghim, "Jim there has always got plenty of jawing tackle aboard; but, Lordlove ye, he's a poor dumb cretur at understanding the signs of theweather! He's talkin' about north-easters, and don't see that the wind'sbeginning to chop about like a bumbo at womanwith a dozen customersround her. It's my opinion, and Tom Davis ought by this time to besummut of a judge, that, instead of a north-easter, it's a precioussight more likely to be blowing a sou'-wester before two hours are past,and a sneezer too; and then the _Columby_, if she ha'nt made a goodoffin', which she is not likely to have done, will be back again in abrace of shakes."

  "Do you think it probable," I eagerly asked, "that the _Columbia_ willbe obliged to put back into Plymouth?"

  "I don't know about _probable_. It's not so sure as death orquarter-day, but it's upon the cards for all that."

  "Will it be early in the night, think you, that she will run in, if atall?"

  "Ah! there now you wants to know too much;" said the old seaman turningon his heel. "All I can say is, that if you find in an hour or so's timethat the wind has chopped round to the sou'-west, or within a p'int ortwo, and that it's blowin' the buttons off your coat one after another,the _Columby_, if she's lucky, wont be far off."

  The half-bantering prediction of the old seaman was confirmed by otherswhom we consulted, and measures for preventing our quarry from landing,and again giving us the slip, were at once discussed and resolved upon.We then separated, and I proceeded to the tavern at which I had put upto get some dinner. I had not gone far when my eye fell upon twopersons whose presence there surprised as well as somewhat grieved me.One
was the young wife of the criminal on board the _Columbia_. I hadseen her once in London, and I knew, as before intimated, that she wasof respectable parentage. There was no exultation in her countenance.She had no doubt followed or accompanied her husband to Plymouth for thepurpose of furthering his escape, and now feared that the capriciouselements would render all the ingenuity and boldness that had beenbrought into play vain and profitless. She was a mild-looking, prettywoman--very much so, I doubt not, till trouble fell upon her, andwonderfully resembled the female in the "Momentous Question;" soremarkably indeed, that when, years afterwards, I first saw that print,I felt an instantaneous conviction that I had somewhere met with theoriginal of the portrait; and after much puzzlement of brain rememberedwhen and where. The resemblance was doubtless purely accidental; but itwas not the less extraordinary and complete. She was accompanied by agray-haired man of grave, respectable exterior, whom I at once concludedto be her father. As I passed close by them, he appeared about toaddress me, and I half-paused to hear what he had to say; but hispartly-formed purpose was not persisted in, and I proceeded on my way.

  After dining, I returned to the quay. The wind, as foretold, was blowingdirectly from the south-west; and during the short pace of time I hadbeen absent, had increased to a tempest. The wild sea was dashing withterrific violence against the breakwater, discernible only in thefast-darkening night by a line of white tumultuous foam and spray, whichleaped and hissed against and over it.

  "A dirty night coming on," said a subaltern officer of the port whom Ihad previously spoken with; "the _Columbia_ will, I think, be prettysure to run in with the tide."

  "When do you say is the very earliest time she may be expected?"

  "Well, in my opinion, judging from where she was when I was on thelook-out a quarter of an hour agone, not under three hours. Let me see.It's now just upon the stroke of five about eight o'clock, I should say,she will be here; certainly not before, perhaps much later; and if thecaptain is very obstinate, and prefers incurring a rather serious riskto returning, it may be of course not at all."

  I thanked him, and as remaining on the bleak quay till eight o'clock orthereabout was as useless as unpleasant, I retraced my steps towards theRoyal George Tavern; calling in my way on the Plymouth officers, andarranging that one of them should relieve me at ten o'clock; it havingbeen previously agreed that we should keep an alternate watch during thenight of two hours each. I afterwards remembered that this arrangementwas repeated, in a tone of voice incautiously loud, at the bar of apublic-house, where they insisted upon my taking a glass of porter.There were, I should say, more than a dozen persons present at the time.

  The fire was blazing brightly in the parlor of the Royal George when Ientered, and I had not been seated near it many minutes before I becameexceedingly drowsy; and no wonder, for I had not been in bed theprevious night, and the blowing of the wind in my eyes for a couple ofhours had of course added greatly to their heavy weariness. Habit hadlong enabled me to awake at any moment I had previously determined on,so that I felt no anxiety as to oversleeping myself; and having pulledout my watch, noticed that it was barely half-past five, wound it up,and placed it before me on the table, I settled myself comfortably inan arm-chair, and was soon sound asleep.

  I awoke with a confused impression, not only that I had quite slept thetime I had allotted myself, but that strangers were in the room andstanding about me. I was mistaken in both particulars. There was no onein the parlor but myself, and on glancing at the watch I saw that it wasbut a quarter-past six. I rose from the chair, stirred the fire, tooktwo or three turns about the room, listened for a few minutes to thehowling wind and driving rain which shook and beat against the casement,sat down again, and took up a newspaper which was lying on the table.

  I had read for some time when the parlor door opened, and who shouldwalk in but the young wife and elderly gentleman whom I had seen in thestreet. I at once concluded that they had sought me with reference tothe fugitive on board the _Columbia_; and the venerable old man's ratherelaborate apologies for intrusion over, and both of them seated on theside of the fireplace opposite to me, I waited with grave curiosity tohear what they might have to say.

  An awkward silence ensued. The young woman's eyes, swollen with weeping,were bent upon the floor, and her entire aspect and demeanor exhibitedextreme sorrow and dejection. I pitied her, so sad and gentle did shelook, from my very soul. The old man appeared anxious and careworn, andfor some time remained abstractedly gazing at the fire without speaking.I had a mind to avoid a painful, and, I was satisfied, profitlessinterview, by abruptly retiring; and was just rising for the purposewhen a fiercer tempest-blast than before, accompanied by the patteringof heavy rain-drops against the window-panes, caused me to hesitate atexposing myself unnecessarily to the rigor of such a night; and at thesame moment the gray-haired man suddenly raised his eyes and regarded mewith a fixed and grave scrutiny.

  "This war of the elements," he at last said; "this wild uproar ofphysical nature, is but a type, Mr. Waters, and a faint one, of theconvulsions, the antagonisms, the hurtful conflicts ever raging in themoral world."

  I bowed dubious assent to a proposition not apparently very pertinent tothe subject, which I supposed chiefly occupied his mind, and heproceeded.

  "It is difficult for dim-eyed beings such as we are always to trace theguiding hand of the ever-watchful Power which conducts the complexevents of this changing, many-colored life to wise and foreseen issues.The conflicts of faith with actual experience are hard for poor humanityto bear, and still keep unimpaired the jewel beyond price of unwaveringtrust in Him to whom the secrets of all hearts are known. Ah, sir!guilt, flaunting its vanities in high places--innocence in danger offetters--are perplexing subjects to dwell upon!"

  I was somewhat puzzled by this strange talk, but, hopeful that a meaningwould presently appear, I again silently intimated partial concurrencein his general views.

  "There is no longer much doubt, Mr. Waters, I believe," he after a fewmoments added in a much more business-like and sensible tone, "that the_Columbia_ will be forced back again, and that the husband of thisunhappy girl will consequently fall into the hands of the blind,unreasoning law.... You appear surprised.... My name, I should havementioned, is Thompson; and be assured, Mr. Waters, that when the realfacts of this most unfortunate affair are brought to your knowledge, noone will more bitterly regret than yourself that this tempest andsudden change of wind should have flung back the prey both you and Ibelieved had escaped upon these fatal shores."

  "From your name I presume you to be the father of this young woman,and"----

  "Yes," he interrupted; "and the father-in-law of the innocent man youhave hunted down with such untiring activity and zeal. But I blame younot," he added, checking himself--"I blame you not. You have only donewhat you held to be your duty. But the ways of Providence are indeedinscrutable!"

  A passionate burst of grief from the pale, weeping wife testified that,whatever might be the fugitive husband's offences or crimes againstsociety, he at least retained _her_ affection and esteem.

  "It is very unpleasant," I observed, "to discuss such a subject in thepresence of relatives of the inculpated person, especially as I as yetperceive no useful result likely to arise from it; still, since you asit were force me to speak, you must permit me to say, that it appears tome you are either grossly deceived yourself, or attempting for somepurpose or other to impose upon my credulity."

  "Neither, sir--neither," replied Mr. Thompson with warmth. "I certainlyam not deceived myself, and I should hope that my character, which Idoubt not is well known to you, will shield me from any suspicion of adesire to deceive others."

  "I am quite aware, Mr. Thompson, of your personal respectability; stillyou may be unwittingly led astray. I very much regret to say, that theevidence against your daughter's husband is overwhelming, and I fearunanswerable."

  "The best, kindest of husbands!" broke in the sobbing wife; "the mostinjured, the most persecuted of men!
"

  "It is useless," said I, rising and seizing my hat, "to prolong thisconversation. If he be innocent, he will no doubt be acquitted; but asit is now close upon half-past seven o'clock, I must beg to take myleave."

  "One moment, sir," said Mr. Thompson hastily. "To be frank with you, itwas entirely for the purpose of asking your advice as an experiencedperson that we are here. You have heard of this young man's father?"

  "Joel Masters?--Yes. A gambler, and otherwise disreputable person, andone of the most specious rascals, I am told, under the sun."

  "You have correctly described him. You are not perhaps acquainted withhis handwriting?"

  "Yes, I am; partially so at least. I have a note in my pocket--here itis--addressed to me by the artful old scoundrel for the purpose ofluring me from the right track after his son."

  "Then, Mr. Waters, please to read this letter from him, dated Liverpool,where it appears he was yesterday to embark for America."

  The letter Mr. Thompson placed in my hands startled me not a little. Itwas a circumstantial confession addressed by Joel Masters to his son,setting forth that he, the father, was alone guilty of the offence withwhich his unfortunate son was charged, and authorizing him to make afull disclosure should he fail in making his escape from the country.This was, I thought, an exceedingly cheap kind of generosity on the partof honest Joel, now that he had secured himself by flight from thepenalties of justice. The letter went on to state where a large amountof bank-notes and acceptances, which the writer had been unable tochange or discount, would be found.

  "This letter," said I, "is a very important one; but where is theenvelop?"

  Mr. Thompson searched his pocket-book: it was not there. "I must havedropped it," he exclaimed, "at my lodgings. Pray wait till I return. Iam extremely anxious to convince you of this unfortunate young man'sinnocence. I will not be more than a few minutes absent." He thenhurried out.

  I looked at my watch: it wanted five-and-twenty minutes to eight. "Ihave but a very few minutes to spare," I observed to the stillpassionately grieving wife; "and as to the letter, you had better placeit in the hands of the attorney for the defence."

  "Ah, sir," sobbed the wife, raising her timid eyes towards me, "you donot believe us or you would not be so eager to seize my husband."

  "Pardon me," I replied, "I have no right to doubt the truth of what youhave told me; but my duty is a plain one, and must be performed."

  "Tell me frankly, honestly," cried the half-frantic woman with a renewedburst of tears, "if, in your opinion, this evidence will save myunhappy, deeply-injured husband? My father, I fear, deceivesme--deceives himself with a vain hope."

  I hesitated to express a very favorable opinion of the effect of astatement, obnoxious, as a few moments' reflection suggested, to so muchsuspicion. The wife quickly interpreted the meaning of my silence, andbroke at once into a flood of hysterical lamentation. It was with thegreatest difficulty I kept life in her by copious showers of water fromthe decanter that stood on the table. This endured some time. At last Isaid abruptly, for my watch admonished me that full ten minutes had beenpassed in this way, that I must summon the waiter and leave her.

  "Go--go," said she, suddenly rallying, "since it must be so. I--I willfollow."

  I immediately left the house, hastened to the quay, and, on arrivingthere, strained my eyes seaward in search of the expected ship. A largebark, which very much resembled her, was, to my dismay, riding at anchorwithin the breakwater, her sails furled, and everything made snug forthe night. I ran to the landing-steps, near which two or three sailorswere standing.

  "What vessel is that?" I asked, pointing to the one which had excited myalarm.

  "_The Columbia_," replied the man.

  "_The Columbia!_ Why, when did she arrive?"

  "Some time ago. The clock chimed a quarter-past eight as the captain anda few of the passengers came on shore."

  "A quarter-past eight! Why, it wants nearly half an hour to that now!"

  "Does it though? Before you are ten minutes older you'll hear the clockstrike nine!"

  The man's words were followed by a merry mocking laugh close to myelbow: I turned sharply round, and for the first and last time in mylife felt an almost irresistible temptation to strike a woman. Therestood the meek, dove-eyed, grief-stricken wife I had parted from but afew minutes before, gazing with brazen impudence in my face.

  "Perhaps, Mr. Waters," said she with another taunting laugh, "perhapsyours is London time; or, which is probably more likely, watchessometimes sleep for an hour or so as well as their owners." She thenskipped gaily off.

  "Are you a Mr. Waters?" said a custom-house official who was paradingthe quay.

  "Yes--and what then?"

  "Only that a Mr. Joel Masters desired me to say that he was very muchgrieved he could not return to finish the evening with you, as he andhis son were unfortunately obliged to leave Plymouth immediately."

  It would have been a real pleasure to have flung the speaker over thequay. By a great effort I denied myself the tempting luxury, and walkedaway in a fever of rage. Neither Joel Masters nor his son couldafterwards be found, spite of the unremitting efforts of myself andothers, continued through several weeks. They both ultimately escaped toAmerica; and some years afterwards I learned through an unexpectedchannel that the canting, specious old rascal was at length getting hisdeserts in the establishment of Sing-Sing. The son, the same informantassured me, had, through the persuasions and influence of his wife, whoprobably thought justice might not be so pleasantly eluded another time,turned over a new leaf, and was leading an honest and prosperous life atCincinnati.