George Cruikshank's Omnibus. George Cruikshank
and General St. John, who deposed to "the previous capture of the pickpocket at the Theatre, his being taken to the lobby and searched, and the purse and watch found upon him."
"Pardon me, General," said the prisoner, respectfully bowing; "your memory has not served you correctly—neither purse nor watch was found upon my person, for this very simple but convincing reason—they had never been there."
"I remember now," resumed the General; "they were not found upon your person, but upon the floor close to where you were taken into custody."
"And I saw you drop them," exclaimed Major Hanger, hastily interrupting the witness.
Barrington bowed his head in the most bland manner, and gracefully waving his hand, uttered with much seeming good-humour, "One at a time, gentlemen, if you please—it is neither fair nor honourable to try and crush a man whom misfortune loves to sport with."
It is not necessary to go through the whole of the examination, which proved that from the Theatre, Barrington had been conveyed to the Brown Bear in Bow Street, where he contrived to escape from the charge of the constable, and since then had been levying contributions in different parts of the country, assuming a variety of characters as best suited his purpose.
He was subsequently detected in a northern town, mingling in the first circles, and dexterously carrying on his depredations; from thence he was conveyed to the metropolis. The charge was considered sufficiently proven to commit; and this "king of thieves" was removed from the bar without evincing outwardly the slightest want of self-command.
As soon as he was gone, and the buzz arising from the conversation of the noblemen and gentlemen had subsided by their taking their departure, the next case was about to be called, when Mr. Brady earnestly solicited the private hearing of the magistrates for a few minutes, on a charge of some magnitude, involving, as it was supposed, the life and property of an officer in his Majesty's navy.
This was not spoken aloud, but only within the hearing of a few of the officers, and the request was promptly granted; Mr. Bond passed into a private room, where Mr. Brady having stated the case, Mrs. Heartwell was called in to give her deposition, which narrated every circumstance relative to the lieutenant's quitting his home the afternoon before, and promising "to be back early, and that he would then communicate something that would delight and astonish them." The lawyer and the magistrate looked earnestly at each other, for the former had mentioned that the circumstance of the officer having to receive considerable property had been concealed from the wife.
"Were you not at all acquainted with the object to which your husband alluded?" inquired Mr. Bond.
"Not to its full extent, sir," replied the lady; "I knew that he had business to transact with Mr. Brady, but was not informed of its purport, though I supposed it was in some measure connected with the decease of an uncle in the East Indies."
"My client," remarked the lawyer, "mentioned that his wife was not cognisant of the transactions between us; and he expressed great delight at the idea of communicating to her the intelligence that he was now able to raise his family to affluence."
"I must beg of you to compose yourself as much as possible, madam," said Mr. Bond with kindness; "the affair is certainly mysterious, but my best assistance shall be given."
The magistrate then went on with the examination, and Ben having in the mean time arrived, made his statement, corroborating that of his mistress—the lawyer also gave his testimony, and ultimately, the coachman was brought forward. His deposition went in substance to state, that "his name was Gervase Simpson, and on the night before, he had been hired off the stand in the 'Fields' shortly before nine o'clock, to take up a fare in Lincoln's Inn—that he went, and a middle-aged man brought out a light, which he held, whilst four or five small, but apparently heavy bags were put into the vehicle; the light was then taken away, and a navy officer came out with another gentleman; the former getting into the coach, and the latter bidding the navy officer 'good night,' told the deponent to drive to Ormond Street, and then he believed went in again. That he accordingly drove to Ormond Street, and felt the check-string pulled; he drew up, dismounted, and opened the door—the navy officer alighted, and having removed the bags, paid him his fare, and went down the street; but deponent took no further notice of his proceedings, remounted his box, and drove to the stand in Charles Street, Covent Garden. He then got another fare to the Borough, and afterwards went home to the stables at Newington."
"All this, if true, can easily be traced," said the magistrate; "it certainly is extremely mysterious—And the lieutenant did not go to his residence, nor has he been seen since? Was he a man of sober habits and reputable character?"
"Most unexceptionable in both," replied the lawyer; "it is true that he had taken a glass or two of wine, but he was perfectly master of his actions—though I cannot altogether account for his leaving the coach where he did."
"Pray," said the magistrate, addressing the coachman, "had you sufficient light or opportunity to observe the person of the officer?"
"Vy not exactly, your vurship," answered Jehu; "it vas wery dark in Linkun's Inn, and them lamps arn't much good, only to blind people; but I saw the glittering of his buttons and his hanger, and could jist make out he vas a tall man; but he vhipped in in sich a hurry, that I hadn't much time to notice; nor did I think of anything of this here kind happening, for as long as I'm civil and gets my full fare, your vurship, I seldom troubles myself about other consarns."
"But in Ormond Street," urged the magistrate, "there you possibly had better light and more time—what took place there?"
"Vell, your vurship, I've tould you all as I knows," responded the witness. "The lamps in Ormond Street arn't never no better nor the rest in regard of lighting—they're pretty much like an ould watchman's eye. I seed as he was an officer of the navy, but arter he tipped the fare, and there was somut handsome over and above the reglar, I was too busy reckoning my money to take much notice—he went off with the bags, some on 'em he had got tied up in a handkercher; but what he had in em' I never guv a moment's thought to."
"Was the officer sober?" inquired the magistrate.
"Vell, your vurship, it arn't ezactly clear vot sobriety is," answered the coachman; "he might or he might not, for I took no perticklar notice, only he seemed to valk avay steady enough. He guv me five shillings; I said 'Thanky, yer honor,' and he says 'Good night,' and that vos all."
"Should you know the gentleman again?" asked the lawyer, bending his keen gaze upon the man.
"Vy, yes, I think I should, if I vos to see him as I did last night," responded the coachman; "but daylight alters people's looks, and I shouldn't like to svear."
After other questions of no very material consequence, the magistrate decided that "the affair should be put into the hands of an experienced officer, who should thoroughly investigate the whole, and he would be ready to attend to any information as soon as it was obtained; but if no further light was thrown upon the transaction, and the lieutenant still remained absent, then he must request Mr. Brady to be in attendance at eleven o'clock the following morning, accompanied by his clerk, the bank agent, and all the evidence he could procure." In the mean time he recommended that intelligence should be given at the other offices, and diligent inquiry made at the hospitals; though in the first instance it would be best to commence the investigation in the neighbourhood of Ormond Street. Mr. Brady promised strict attention, and the parties withdrew.
LOVE HAS LEGS.
Strolling about from bower to hall,
Love paid Lavinia a morning call.
An hour soon went—she chatted and sang—
He staid—till at last the dinner-bell rang.
He