"My lord," said Mr Haredale, "the murdered gentleman was mybrother; I succeeded to his inheritance; there were not wantingslanderous tongues at that time, to whisper that the guilt of thismost foul and cruel deed was mine--mine, who loved him, as heknows, in Heaven, dearly. The time has come, after all these yearsof gloom and misery, for avenging him, and bringing to light acrime so artful and so devilish that it has no parallel. Everysecond"s delay on your part loosens this man"s bloody hands again,and leads to his escape. My lord, I charge you hear me, anddespatch this matter on the instant."
"Oh dear me!" cried the chief magistrate; "these an"t businesshours, you know--I wonder at you--how ungentlemanly it is of you-youmustn"t--you really mustn"t.--And I suppose you are a Catholictoo?"
"I am," said Mr Haredale.
"God bless my soul, I believe people turn Catholics a"purpose tovex and worrit me," cried the Lord Mayor. "I wish you wouldn"tcome here; they"ll be setting the Mansion House afire next, and weshall have you to thank for it. You must lock your prisoner up,sir--give him to a watchman--and--call again at a proper time.
Then we"ll see about it!"
Before Mr Haredale could answer, the sharp closing of a door anddrawing of its bolts, gave notice that the Lord Mayor had retreatedto his bedroom, and that further remonstrance would be unavailing.
The two clients retreated likewise, and the porter shut them outinto the street.
"That"s the way he puts me off," said the old gentleman, "I canget no redress and no help. What are you going to do, sir?"
"To try elsewhere," answered Mr Haredale, who was by this time onhorseback.
"I feel for you, I assure you--and well I may, for we are in acommon cause," said the old gentleman. "I may not have a house to offer you to-night; let me tender it while I can. On secondthoughts though," he added, putting up a pocket-book he hadproduced while speaking, "I"ll not give you a card, for if it wasfound upon you, it might get you into trouble. Langdale--that"s myname--vintner and distiller--Holborn Hill--you"re heartily welcome,if you"ll come."
Mr Haredale bowed, and rode off, close beside the chaise as before;determining to repair to the house of Sir John Fielding, who hadthe reputation of being a bold and active magistrate, and fullyresolved, in case the rioters should come upon them, to doexecution on the murderer with his own hands, rather than sufferhim to be released.
They arrived at the magistrate"s dwelling, however, withoutmolestation (for the mob, as we have seen, were then intent ondeeper schemes), and knocked at the door. As it had been prettygenerally rumoured that Sir John was proscribed by the rioters, abody of thief-takers had been keeping watch in the house all night.
To one of them Mr Haredale stated his business, which appearing tothe man of sufficient moment to warrant his arousing the justice,procured him an immediate audience.
No time was lost in committing the murderer to Newgate; then a newbuilding, recently completed at a vast expense, and considered tobe of enormous strength. The warrant being made out, three of thethief-takers bound him afresh (he had been struggling, it seemed,in the chaise, and had loosened his manacles); gagged him lest theyshould meet with any of the mob, and he should call to them forhelp; and seated themselves, along with him, in the carriage.
These men being all well armed, made a formidable escort; but theydrew up the blinds again, as though the carriage were empty, anddirected Mr Haredale to ride forward, that he might not attractattention by seeming to belong to it.
The wisdom of this proceeding was sufficiently obvious, for as theyhurried through the city they passed among several groups of men,who, if they had not supposed the chaise to be quite empty, wouldcertainly have stopped it. But those within keeping quite close,and the driver tarrying to be asked no questions, they reached theprison without interruption, and, once there, had him out, and safewithin its gloomy walls, in a twinkling.
With eager eyes and strained attention, Mr Haredale saw himchained, and locked and barred up in his cell. Nay, when he hadleft the jail, and stood in the free street, without, he felt the iron plates upon the doors, with his hands, and drew them over thestone wall, to assure himself that it was real; and to exult in itsbeing so strong, and rough, and cold. It was not until he turnedhis back upon the jail, and glanced along the empty streets, solifeless and quiet in the bright morning, that he felt the weightupon his heart; that he knew he was tortured by anxiety for thosehe had left at home; and that home itself was but another bead inthe long rosary of his regrets.
