Her Benny: A Story of Street Life
CHAPTER XVII.
Perks again.
I knew, I knew it could not last; 'T was bright, 't was heavenly, but 'tis past Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour I've seen my fondest hopes decay. I never nursed a tree or flower, But 't was the first to fade away; I never nursed a dear gazelle To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well. And love me, it was sure to die. --Moore.
On the Monday morning Benny was brought before the magistrates, chargedwith stealing five pounds from his master's office. He was almost readyto faint when placed in the dock; but, conscious of his own innocence,he gathered up his courage, and answered fearlessly the questions thatwere addressed to him.
Inspector Sharp gave the particulars of the case, adding that thoughthe money had not been found on the prisoner, or indeed anywhere else,yet he had no doubt that the lad had accomplices to whom he had giventhe missing property.
Benny denied most emphatically that he had seen the money: he admittedthat appearances were against him. "But, oh," he said, looking at thepresiding magistrate, his eyes swimming with tears, "I'm not a thief,sir, if you'll on'y believe it; I'm not, really."
Benny's honest face and simple straightforward answers evidently madein his favour; but as Mr. Lawrence had not appeared against him, he wasremanded until the following day, so he was removed once more to hiscell.
Perks's case was not tried that day, so once more Benny had him for acompanion.
During most of the evening Perks sat in one corner, with his face in hishands, and his elbows on his knees, without either speaking or moving.Benny took the opposite corner, glad for once that he had a chance ofbeing quiet. He wondered what would be done to him, whether he would besent to prison or set at liberty. He felt that he did not care much whathappened, for to be penned up in prison, he thought, could not be muchworse than to go back in disgrace to the old life of selling matches inthe street.
Above the grated window the little patch of blue began to fade as theday waned and darkened into night. Then a solitary star appeared, andlooked down with kindly eye into the dreary cell. Benny watched the startwinkling so far above him, and wondered what it could be. Was it one ofGod's eyes, or the eye of one of His angels? Could it be his Nelly thatwas looking at him? Or were the stars only holes in the floor of heavento let the glory through?
He could not tell, but somehow that kindly star looking in upon himseemed to comfort his heart; and he felt that though the world buffetedhim, and would not give him a chance of getting on, yet he was notforgotten of God.
Then his thoughts turned to Perks. Was God watching him also? for thestar was not visible from the corner where he crouched. Why was he soquiet? Was he sorry for what he had done, or was he ill?
Benny was glad to be quiet; and yet somehow as the darkness deepened hefelt lonesome, and wondered what had come to the silent figure in thecorner. It was so unusual for Perks to be quiet so long. He listened fora moment, but all was still. And still the minutes dragged away, and thesilence became oppressive.
"Perks!" said Benny, unable longer to keep quiet; and his voice awokethe sleeping echoes of the cell, and made it sound hollow as a tomb.
But the echoes were his only answer.
"Perks!" in a louder voice.
Still there was silence, and Benny began to get frightened. Was he dead?he wondered. How awful it would be to be in that cell all night alonewith a dead body!
"Perks, do speak!" in a tone of agony.
And he listened for an answer, while the perspiration stood in greatdrops upon his forehead. But still only silence. He could hear thethumping of his own heart distinctly, and he became hot and cold byturns with fright.
At length he thought he heard a noise coming from the corner where hefelt sure Perks was crouched dead. It sounded like suppressed laughter.What could it mean? He dared not move from his corner. Was it Satan cometo carry away Perks? for he was very wicked, he knew.
It had got too dark now to see anything distinctly; but there was ashuffling noise on the floor. Horrors! it was coming across the celltowards him. What was it? He could see some unshapely thing moving.Now it was drawing itself up to its full height. Benny nearly shriekedout in an agony of terror. Then it flashed across his mind in amoment--Perks was playing him another of his tricks.
Waiting until Perks was near enough, he dealt him a blow straight fromthe shoulder that sent him sprawling to the other end of the cell.
"Oh, lor a massy!" he shouted, "if that ain't a stinger!"
"Serves you right," said Benny.
"Lor, but didn't I give you a scarin', just! I never did injoy a thingas much in my life; but, oh, lor! I nearly busted once or twice wi'larfin'."
"I think I gived you a scarin' too," retorted Benny.
"Well, I confess it comed raather sudden like; so that's one to you,Ben. I'll give you yer due."
"I've a good mind to pound you to a jelly," said Benny. "Yer always onwith yer tricks."
"Well, I didn't 'tend to scare yer, Ben, for I wur bissy medertatin' ona little plan I 'as in my yed; but when yer spoke 'Perks!' anxious like,the idear comed to me all in a moment. Oh, lor, weren't it a spree!"
"I don't see no fun in it," said Benny.
"Oh, lor, yer don't?" and Perks laughed again. "But I say, Ben, I wantsyer 'elp in carryin' out as purty a bit o' play as ever you seen."
"Is it what you've been thinking about all the evenin'?"
"Ay, lad, it's the most butifullest idear that wur ever 'atched in this'ere noddle; an' if you'll only 'elp me, my stars! our fortin's made."
"You're up to no good again, I'll be bound," said Benny.
"Well, I reckon you'll alter your mind on that score when yer 'ears thedetails o' my plan," said Perks, coming closer to Benny's side.
"Well, what is it?"
"I must whisper it," said Perks, "though I dunna thinks any bobbies isaround listenin' at this time o' night, but it's allers best to be onthe safe side."
"I don't want to 'ear it," said Benny, "if it's some'at you mustwhisper. It's no good, that I'm sartin of."
"Don't be a ninny, Ben. Just listen."
And Perks confided to Ben a plan of getting into the house of an old manwho kept a little shop, and lived all alone, and who kept all his moneylocked up in a little cupboard in the room behind the shop.
"How do you know he keeps his money there?" said Benny.
"Never you mind," was the answer; "I does know it to a sartinty."
"Where does the old man live?"
"No. 86 ---- Street."
"What's his name?"
"Jerry Starcher. Ain't yer 'eard o' 'im?"
"Ay," said Benny.
"Then you'll 'elp?" said Perks, eagerly.
"Ay," said Benny, "but not in the way you thinks."
"What does yer mean?"
"I mean, if I git out of this place, I'll put the old man on his guard."
"What, an' split on me?"
"No, I'll not mention names."
"Then I 'opes ye'll be sent to a 'formatory an' kep' there for the nextfive year."
"Do you? Why?"
"'Cause yer a fool, Ben Bates."
"How so?"
"'Cause ye are, I say."
"Well, your saying so don't make it so, anyhow," retorted Benny:
"Don't it, though? But look 'ere: ye're 'ere for stealin', and I cantell yer from 'sperience, that a gent as takes up the perfession isworse nor a fool to give it up agin 'cause he 'appens to get nabbed."
"But I'm not here for stealin'," said Benny, colouring.
"Ye're not, eh?" said Perks, laughing till the tears ran down his face."Well, that are the richest bit I's heard for the last month."
"But," said Benny, with flashing eyes, "though I'm here charged withstealing, I tell yer I'm honest."
"Are that a fact now, Ben?" said Perks, looking serious.
"It is," replied Benny; "I never took the money."
"Well, so much the worse," said
Perks.
"How's that?"
"Cause yer might as well be a thief, hout an' hout, as be charged wi'bein' one. I tell 'e there's no chance for yer; the bobbies'll 'avetheir eyes on yer wherever yer be; and if yer gits a sitivation they'llcome along an' say to yer guv'nor, 'Yon's a jail-bird, yer'd better 'aveyer eye on 'im;' then ye'll 'ave to walk it somewheres else, an' it'llbe the same everywheres."
"How do you know that?" said Benny.
"'Cause I's 'sperienced it," was the reply. "I's older 'n you, thoughyou's biggest; but I reckons as I knows most, an' it's true what I say.Why, bless yer, the first time I ever nabbed I got a month, an' I worso horful frightened, that I vowed if ever I got out I'd be honest,an' never get in no more; but, bless yer, it wur no go. The bobbiestold each other who I wur, an' they was always a-watching me. I got asitivation once, a honcommon good 'un too; but, oh, lor, the next daya bobby says to the guv'nor, says he, 'Yon's a jail-bird, you'd betterkeep yer eye on 'im;' an' you may guess I'd to walk in quick sticks.I made two or three tries arter, but it wur no go. As soon as hever abobbie came near I'd to be off like greased lightnin', an' you'll findout what I say. If yer not a thief now, ye'll 'ave to come to it. I tellyer there's no help for it."
"But I tell you I'll _not_ come to it," said Benny, stoutly.
"But I knows better," persisted Perks; "there ken be no possible chancefor yer. Ye're down, an' the world'll keep 'e down, though yer try everso."
Benny looked thoughtful, for he had a suspicion that a good deal thatPerks said was true. He was down, and he feared there was very little,if any, chance of his getting up again. He had proved by experience thatthe world was hard upon poor lads, and he knew it would be doubly hardupon him now that his character was gone. Yet he felt that he could notbecome a thief. He would sooner die, and he told Perks so.
But Perks only laughed at the idea.
"You'll find that dyin' ain't so precious easy, my lad," he said in apatronizing tone of voice. And Benny felt that very likely Perks' wordswere true in relation to that matter, and so he was silent.
"You'd better come partner 'long wi' me," said Perks, in a tone of voicethat was intended to be encouraging.
"No," said Benny. "I'll help you if you'll try to be honest; for lookhere, Perks: there's another life besides this, an' if we're not good weshall go to the bad place when we die, for only good people can go toheaven. An' I want to go to the good place, for little Nell is there;an' I want to see her again, for she was all I had to love in the world,an' oh! it 'ud grieve her so if I were to be a thief, an' grieve thegood Lord who died for us all. No, Perks, little Nell begged me aforeshe died to be good, an' she said the Lord 'ud provide, an' I means tobe good. Won't you try to be good too, Perks? I'm sure it 'ud be better."
"No," said Perks: "folks 'as druv' me to what I is. I tried to behonest once, an' they wouldn't let me, an' so I intends to stick to theperfession now, for I likes it; an' ye'll come to it yet."
"I'd rather die," said Benny solemnly.
"Humbug!" snarled Perks. "But I'll say this afore I go to sleep, forI's gettin' des'pert sleepy, if ye'll join me in the perfession I'll bea frien' to yer, an' put yer up to all the tricks, an' forgive yer forthat hidin' yer give me. But if," and he brought out the words slowly,"ye'll 'sist on bein' a fool, I'll pay off old scores yet, an' I'llplague yer worse nor ever I's done yet; so I give yer fair warnin'. Nowfor the land o' nod."
Neither of them spoke again after that, and soon after they were bothlocked in the arms of kindly sleep.
The following morning Benny was again brought before the magistrates,but nothing new was brought forward in evidence. Mr. Lawrence, however,stated that he did not wish to prosecute, or in any way punish the lad.And as there was no positive evidence that Benny had taken the money,he was dismissed. It was evident, however, that the general belief wasthat he was guilty; but as the evidence was only presumptive, and thisbeing his first appearance before them, he was given the benefit of thedoubt, and set at liberty, with a caution that if he came before themagain he would not get off so easily.
His week's wages that Mr. Lawrence had paid him was restored to him onleaving the court, and once more he found himself a homeless orphan onthe streets of Liverpool.
Perks did not fare so well. He was an old and evidently a hardenedoffender. The case was also proved against him, and he was sentenced tobe kept in prison for three calendar months. Perks heard the sentenceunmoved. He liked liberty best, it is true, but the only thing thatgrieved him was that it was summer-time. If it had been winter, he wouldnot have cared a straw; but as it was he was determined to make the bestof it, and get as much enjoyment out of it as he possibly could.
So Perks and Benny drifted apart, and Benny wondered if they would evermeet again. Life before him lay dark and cheerless. He seemed to havedrifted away from everything: no friend was left to him in all theworld. There were granny and Joe, but he could not see them, for he feltthat if a shade of suspicion crept into their manner, it would breakhis heart. No, he would keep away. Then there was Mr. Lawrence; he couldexpect nothing further from him. He believed him to be a thief, of thatthere could be no doubt, and so doubtless did Morgan and all the otherclerks. And then there was little Eva, the angel that had brightenedhis life for six brief months, and whose bright shilling nothing couldinduce him to part with. Did she believe him guilty too? Of course shedid. His guilt must seem so clear to every one of them. And so he wasalone in the world, without a friend to help, unless God would help him;but of that he did not feel quite sure. Sometimes he thought that theLord would surely provide, but at other times he doubted.
He was at liberty, it was true, and ought he not to be thankfulfor that? he asked himself; but alas! his innocence had not beenestablished. Young as he was, he felt the force of that. And he felt itterribly hard that all--all! even his little angel--believed him to be athief.
Ah! he did not know how sore was Eva Lawrence's little heart, and howshe persisted to her father that Benny was innocent, and pleaded withhim, but pleaded in vain, for him to take back the poor boy and give himanother chance.
And night after night she cried herself to sleep, as she thought of thelittle orphan sent adrift on life's treacherous ocean, and wondered whatthe end would be. And when one day she tried to sing "Love at Home,"the words almost choked her, for the pleading, suffering face of thehomeless child came up before her, and looked at her with hungry wistfuleyes, as if asking for sympathy and help.
But children soon forget their griefs, and as the days wore away andlengthened into weeks, Benny was almost forgotten, till one day acircumstance occurred which made him again the talk of the Lawrencehousehold. What that circumstance was shall be told in its proper placein the unfolding of this story of Benny's life.