City Crimes; Or, Life in New York and Boston. George Thompson
I can do a good action to him, to prove my gratitude, I shall be a happy fellow indeed.'
'Posh!' said the Dead Man, contemptuously—'don't talk to me of gratitude—if a man does me a service I hate him for it ever afterwards. I never rest till I repay him by some act of treachery or vengeance.'
As the hideous man gave utterance to this abominable sentiment, several females entered the apartment, one of whom led by the hand a small boy of five years of age. This woman was the wife of the Dead Man, and the child was his son.
The little fellow scrambled upon the table, and his father took him upon his knee, saying to the company—
'Pals, you know the blessed Bible tells us to 'train up a child in the way he should go;' very good—now you will see how well I have obeyed the command with this little kid. Attend to your catechism, my son. What is your name?'
'Jack the Prig,' answered the boy without hesitation.
'Who gave you that name?'
'The Jolly Knights of the Round Table.'
'Who made you?' asked the father.
'His Majesty, old Beelzebub!' said the child.
'For what purpose did he make you?'
'To be a bold thief all my life, and die like a man upon the gallows!'
Immense applause followed this answer.
'What is the whole duty of man?'
'To drink, lie, rob, and murder when necessary.'
'What do you think of the Bible?'
'It's all a cursed humbug!'
'What do you think of me—now speak up like a man!'
'You're the d——dest scoundrel that ever went unhung,' replied the boy, looking up in his father's face and smiling.
The roar of laughter that followed his answer was perfectly deafening, and was heartily joined in by the Dead Man himself, who had taught the child the very words—and those words were true as gospel. The Dead Man knew he was a villain, and gloried in the title. He gave the boy a glass of brandy to drink, as a reward for his cleverness; and further encouraged him by prophesying that he would one day become a great thief.
Room was now made at the table for the women, several of whom were young and good-looking. They were all depraved creatures, being common prostitutes, or very little better; and they drank, swore, and boasted of their exploits in thieving and other villainy, with as much gusto as their male companions. After an hour of so spent in riotous debauchery, the company, wearied with their excesses, broke up, and most of them went to their sleeping places; the Dead Man, the boy and the stranger, together with a man named Fred, remained at the table; and the former, addressing the stranger, said to him—
'And so, young man, you have just come out of quod, hey? Well, as you look rather hard up, and most likely haven't a great deal of blunt on hand, suppose I put you in the way of a little profitable business—eh?'
The stranger nodded approvingly.
'Well, then,' continued the Dead Man—'you must know that Fred Archer here and myself spotted a very pretty crib on Broadway, and we have determined to crack it. The house is occupied by a young gentleman named Sydney, and his wife—they have been married but a short time. We shall have no difficulty in getting into the crib, for Mr. Sydney's butler, a fellow named Davis, is bribed by me to admit us into the house, at a given signal. What say you—will you join us?'
'Yes—and devilish glad of the chance,' replied the stranger, gazing at Fred Archer with much interest. Fred was a good looking young man, genteelly dressed, but with a dissipated, rakish air.
'Very well—that matter is settled,' said the Dead Man. 'Three of us will be enough to do the job, and therefore we shan't want your assistance, Kinchen,' he added, addressing the boy. 'It must now be about six o'clock in the morning—we will meet here to-night at eleven precisely. Do not fail, for money is to be made in this affair.'
The stranger promised to be punctual at the appointed hour; and bidding him good night (for it was always night in that place), Fred and the Dead Man retired, leaving the Kinchen and the stranger alone together.
'Well,' said the Kinchen—'so it seems that you have got into business already. Well and good—but I must caution you to beware of that Dead Man, for he is treacherous as a rattlesnake. He will betray you, if anything is to be gained by it—and even when no advantage could be gained, he will play the traitor out of sheer malice. He is well aware that I, knowing his real character, would not join him in the business, and therefore he affected to think that my assistance was unnecessary.'
'I will look out for him,' rejoined the stranger—and then added, 'I will now thank you to conduct me out of this place, as I have matters to attend to elsewhere.'
The Kinchen complied, and in ten minutes they emerged into the street above, by the same way they had entered.
Here they parted, the stranger having first presented the boy with a liberal remuneration for his services as guide, and made an appointment to meet him on a future occasion.
CHAPTER VII
The false wife, and the dishonest servant—scene in the Police Court—capture of the Burglars, and threat of vengeance.
Mr. Francis Sydney and his lady were seated at dinner, in the sumptuously furnished dining parlor of their elegant Broadway mansion. The gentleman looked somewhat pale and ill at ease, but the lady had never looked more superbly beautiful.
The table was waited upon by Davis, the butler, a respectable looking man of middle age, and Mr. Sydney, from time to time, glanced furtively from his wife to this man, with a very peculiar expression of countenance.
'My love,' said Mrs. Sydney, after a pause of several minutes—'I have a little favor to ask.'
'You have but to name it, Julia, to ensure it being granted,' was the reply.
'It is this,' said the lady;—'our present footman is a stupid Irishman, clumsy and awkward; and I really wish him to be discharged. And, my dear, I should be delighted to have the place filled by my father's black footman, who is called Nero. He is civil and attentive, and has been in my father's family many years. Let us receive him into our household.'
'Well Julia,' said the husband, 'I will consider on the subject. I should not like to part with our present footman, Dennis, without some reluctance—for though uncouth in his manners, he is an honest fellow, and has served me faithfully for many years. Honest servants are exceedingly scarce now-a-days.'
As he uttered these last words, Davis, the butler, cast a sudden and suspicious look upon his master, who appeared to be busily engaged with the contents of his plate, but who in reality was steadfastly regarding him from the corner of his eyes.
As soon as dinner was over, the lady retired to her boudoir; Davis removed the cloth and Mr. Sydney was left alone. After taking two or three turns up and down the room, he paused before the fireplace and soliloquized thus:
'Curses on my unhappy situation! My wife is an adulteress, and my servants in league with villains to rob me! These two letters confirm the first—and my last night's adventure in the Dark Vaults convinced me of the second. And then the woman just now had the damnable effrontery to request me to take her rascally paramour into my service, in place of my faithful Dennis! She wishes to carry on her amours under my very nose! And that scoundrel Davis—how demure, how innocently he looks—and yet how suspiciously he glanced at me, when I emphasized honest servants! He is a cursed villain, and yet not one-tenth part so guilty as this woman, whom I espoused in honorable marriage, supposing her to be pure and untainted