Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (242 page)

 
as a rogue and vagabond.
   
 
"The treadmill is a horrible
punishment: it is too bad even for those that are really rogues and vagabonds.
The weak and the strong take the same turn, without any distinction; and I have
seen men fall down fainting upon the platform, with the risk of having their
legs or arms smashed by the wheel, through sheer exhaustion. Then the miserable
fare that one receives in prison renders him more fit for an hospital than for
the violent labour of the treadmill.
    "I had been two years at the hulks, and was not
hardened: I had been a smuggler and a body- snatcher, and was not hardened:-
but this one month's imprisonment and spell at the treadmill
 
did
 
harden me - and hardened me completely! I could not see any
advantage in being good. I could not find out any inducement to be honest. As
for a desire to lead an honourable life, that was absurd. I now laughed the
idea to scorn; and I swore within myself that whenever I
 
did
 
commence a course of crime, I would be an unsparing demon at my
work. Oh! how I then detested the very name of virtue. The rich look upon the
poor as degraded reptiles that are born in infamy and that cannot possibly
possess a good instinct.  I reasoned within myself. 'Let a rich man accuse
a poor man before a justice, a jury, or a judge, and see how quick the poor
wretch is condemned! The aristocracy hold the lower classes in horror and
abhorrence. The legislature thinks that if it does not make the most grinding
laws to keep down the poor. the poor will rise up and commit the
 
most unheard-of atrocities. In
fact the rich are prepared to believe any infamy which is imputed to the poor.'
It was thus that I reasoned; and I looked forward to the day of my release with
a burning - maddening - drunken joy!
    "That day came. I was turned adrift, as before, without
a shilling and without a crust. That alone was as bad as branding the words
 
rogue and vagabond
 
upon my forehead. How could I remain honest, even if I had any
longer been inclined to do so, when I could not get work and had no money - no
bread - no lodging? The legislature does not think of all this. It fancies that
all its duty consists in punishing men for crimes, and never dreams of adopting
measures to prevent them from committing crimes at all. But I now no more
thought of honesty: I went out of prison a confirmed ruffian. I had no money -
no conscience - no fear - no hope - no love - no friendship - no sympathy - no
kindly feeling of any sort. My soul had turned to the blackness of hell!
    "The very first thing I did was to cut myself a good
tough ash stick with a heavy knob at one end. The next thing I did was to break
into the house of the very justice who had sentenced him to the treadmill for
eating a raw turnip; and I feasted jovially upon the cold fowl and ham which I
found in his larder. I also drank success to my new career in a bumper of his
fine old wine. This compliment was due to him: he had made me what I was!
    "I carried off a small quantity of plate - all that I
could find, you may be sure - and took my departure from the house of the
justice. As I was hurrying away from this scene of my first exploit, I passed
by a fine large barn, also belonging to my friend the magistrate. I did not
hesitate a moment what to do. I owed him a recompense for my month at the
treadmill; and I thought I might as well add
 
Incendiary
 
to my other titles of
 
Rogue
 
and
 
Vagabond.
 
Besides, I longed for mischief - the world had persecuted me quite
long enough, the hour of retaliation had arrived. I fired the barn and
scampered away as hard as I could. I halted at a distance of about half a mile,
and turned to look. A bright column of flame was shooting up to heaven! Oh I
how happy did I feel at that moment. Happy! this is not the word! I was mad -
intoxicated - delirious with joy. I literally danced as I saw the barn burning.
I was avenged on the man who would not allow me to eat a cold turnip to save me
from starving :- that one cold turnip cost him dear! The fire spread, and communicated
with his dwelling-house; and there was no adequate supply of water. The barn -
the stacks - the out-houses - the mansion were all destroyed. But that was not
all. The only daughter of the justice - a lovely girl of nineteen - was burnt
to death. I read the entire account in the newspapers a few days afterwards!
    "And the upper classes wonder that there are so many
incendiary fires: my only surprise is, that there are so few! Ah! the
Lucifer-match is a fearful weapon in the hands of the man whom the laws, the
aristocracy, and the present state of society have ground down to the very
dust. I felt all my power - I knew all my strength -  I was aware of all
my importance as a man, when I read of the awful extent of misery and
desolation which I had thus caused. Oh! I was signally avenged!
    I now bethought me of punishing the baronet in the same
manner. He had been the means of sending me for two years to the hulks at
Woolwich. Pleased with this idea, I jogged merrily on towards Walmer. It was
late at night when I reached home. I found my mother watching by my father's
death-bed, and arrived just in time to behold him breathe his last. My mother
spoke to me about decent interment for him. I laughed in her face. Had he ever
allowed any one to sleep quietly in his grave? No. How could
 
he
 
then hope for repose in the tomb? My mother remonstrated: I
threatened to dash out her brains with my stout ash stick; and on the following
night I sold my father's body to the surgeon who had anatomised poor Kate Price!
This was another vengeance on my part.
    "Not many hours elapsed before I set fire to the
largest barn upon the baronet's estate. I waited in the neighbourhood and
glutted myself with a view of the conflagration. The damage was immense. The
next day I composed a song upon the subject, which I have never since
forgotten. You may laugh at the idea of me becoming a poet; but you know well
enough that I received some trifle of education - that I was not a fool by
nature - and that in early life I was fond of reading. The lines were these:-

THE INCENDIARY'S SONG.

"THE Lucifer-match! the Lucifer-match!
    'Tis the weapon for us to wield.
How bonnily burns up rick and thatch.
    And the crop just housed from the field
The proud may oppress and the rich distress, 
    And drive us from their door;- 
But they cannot snatch the Lucifer-match 
    From the hand of the desperate poor

"The purse proud squire and the tyrant peer 
    May keep their Game Laws still;
And the very glance of the overseer
    May continue to freeze and kill.
The wealthy and great, and the chiefs of the state,
    May tyrannise more and more;- 
But they cannot snatch the Lucifer-match 
    From the hand of the desperate poor!

" 'Oh! give us bread!'
 
is the piteous wail
    That is murmured far and wide;
And echo takes up and repeats the tale- 
    But the rich man turns aside.
The Justice of Peace may send his Police 
    To scour the country o'er;
But they cannot snatch the Lucifer-match
    From the hand of the desperate poor!

"Then, hurrah! hurrah! for the Lucifer-match;
     'Tis the weapon of despair.- 
How bonnily blaze up barn and thatch- 
    The poor man's revenge is there!
For the
 
worm
 
will turn on the feet that
spurn- 
    And surely a
 
man
 
is more?- 
Oh! none can e'er snatch the Lucifer match 
    From the hand of the desperate poor!

    "The baronet suspected that I was the
cause of the fire, as I had just returned to the neighbourhood; and he had me
arrested and taken before a justice; but there was not a shadow of proof
against me, nor a pretence to keep me in custody. I was accordingly discharged,
with an admonition '
to take care of myself
 
'- which was as much as to say, '
If I can find an
 
opportunity of sending you to
prison, I will.'
   
 
"Walmer and its
neighbourhood grew loathsome to me. The image of Kate Price constantly haunted
me; and I was moreover shunned by every one who knew that I had been at the
hulks. I accordingly sold off all the fishing tackle, and other traps, and came
up to London with the old Mummy.
    "I need say no more."
    "And there's enough in your history to set a man
a-thinking," exclaimed the waiter of the boozing-ken; "there is
indeed."
    "Ah! I b'lieve you, there is," observed the
Cracksman, draining the pot which had contained the egg-flip.
The clock struck mid-day when Holford entered the parlour of the boozing-ken.

THE PLOT

"WELL, young blade," cried the Cracksman, "you
haven't kept us waiting at all, I suppose?"
    "And do you fancy that I could wake myself up again in
a minute when I had once laid down?" demanded the lad, sulkily.
    "Oh! bother to the laying down, Harry," said the
Cracksman. "Don't you think me and Tony wants sleep as well as a strong
hearty young feller like you? and we haven't put buff in downy since the night
afore last."
    "Well, never mind chaffing about
 
that
," cried the Resurrection
Man impatiently: then, having dismissed the waiter, he continued, "Now,
about this business at the palace? We must have no delay; and when we make
appointments in future, they must be better kept. But I won't speak of this one
now, because there a some allowance to be made for you, as you were up the best
part of the night, and you ain't accustomed to it as we are. But to the point.
How is this affair to be managed? "
    "I don't see how it is to be managed at all,"
answered Holford, firmly.
    "The devil you don't," cried the Cracksman.
"Then what was you doing all that time in the palace?"
    "Running a thousand risks of being found out every
minute —"
    "So we all do at times."
    "And sneaking about at night-time to find food."
    "I think you managed to discover the right place for
the grist," said the Resurrection Man, his cadaverous countenance wearing
an ironical smile; "for you must recollect that I found you in the
pantry."
    "And the pantry's a good neighbourhood: it can't be far
from where the plate's kept," observed the Cracksman.
    "The plate is kept where no one can get at it,"
said Holford.
    "How do you know that, youngster?"
    "I overheard the servants count it, lock it up in a
chest, and take it up to the apartments of - of - the Lord Steward, I think
they call him."
    "The deuce!" ejaculated the Cracksman, in a tone
of deep disappointment.
    "Now I tell you what it is, young fellow," said
the Resurrection Man; "I think that for some reason or another you're
deceiving us."
    "You think so?" cried the lad. "And why
should you fancy that I am deceiving you?"
    "Because your manners tell me so."
    "In that case," said Holford, rising from his
seat, "it is not of any use for us to talk more upon the subject."
    "By G—d, it is of use, though!" exclaimed the
Cracksman. "You shall tell us the truth by fair means or foul;" and
he produced from his pocket a clasp-knife, the murderous blade of which flew
open by means of a spring which was pressed at the back.
    Holford turned pale, and resumed his seat.
    "Now, you see that it is no use to humbug us,"
said the Resurrection Man. "Tell us the whole truth, and you will of
course get your reg'lars out of the swag. You told me that the Queen was going
to Windsor in a day or two; and that was as much as to say that the affair
would come off then."
    "I told you the Queen was going to Windsor - and I tell
you so again," replied Holford. "But I can't help it if they lock up
the plate: and I don't know what else there is for you to carry off."
    The Resurrection Man and the Cracksman exchanged glances of
mingled rage and disappointment. They did not precisely believe what the lad
told them, and yet they could not see any motive which he was likely to have
for misleading them - unless it were to retain all the profits of his
discoveries in the palace for his own sole behoof.
    "Now, Holford, my good fellow," said the
.Cracksman, shutting up his clasp-knife, and returning it to his pocket,
"if you fancy that you are able to go through this business alone, and
without any help, you are deucedly mistaken."
    "I imagine no such thing," returned Holford;
"and to prove to you that I am convinced there is nothing to be got by the
affair, in any shape or way, do you and Tidkins attempt it alone together. He
found his way to the pantry as well as I did, and can tell you what he saw
there."
    "That a true," said the Resurrection Man,
apparently struck by this observation. "So I suppose we must give the
thing up as a bad job?"
    "I suppose we must," added the Cracksman, grinding
his teeth. "But, by G—d, if I thought this younker was humbugging us, I'd
plant three inches of cold steel in him, come what would."
    "Thank you for your kindness," said Holford, not
without a shudder. "Another time, get some person to act for you whose
word you will believe. And now," he continued, turning to the Resurrection
Man, "please to recollect the terms we agreed upon - a third of all we
could get if successful, or five pounds for me in case of failure."
    "Well, I shall keep my word," returned the
Resurrection Man.
    "Blow me if I would, though," exclaimed the
Cracksman, fiercely.
    "Yes - fair play's a jewel," said the Resurrection
Man, darting a significant glance at his companion; then, feeling in his
pocket, he added, "Holford is entitled to his five pounds, and he shall
have them; but, curse me! if I have enough in my pocket to pay him. I tell you
what it is, my lad," he continued, turning towards the young man,
"you must meet me somewhere this evening, and I'll give you the
money."
    "That will do," cried Holford. "Where shall I
meet you?"
    "Where?" repeated the Resurrection Man, affecting
to muse upon the question: "Oh! I will tell you. You know the
 
Dark-House
 
in Brick Lane, Spitalfields?"
    "I have heard of it, but was never there."
    "Well - meet me there to-night at nine o'clock,
Harry," said the Resurrection Man, in as kind a tone as he could assume,
"and I'll tip you the five. counters."
    "At nine punctually," returned Holford. "I
would not press you, but I have lost my place in consequence of being absent
all this time without being able to give any account of myself; and so I am
regularly hard up. I'm going to look after a situation up somewhere beyond
Camden Town this afternoon, that I heard of by accident: but I am afraid I
shall not get it, as I can give no reference for character;- and even if I
could, it would be to the public-house where I was pot-boy, and the place I'm
going to try for is to clean boots and knives,
 
and make myself generally useful
in a gentleman's house. So I am afraid that I am not likely to get the
situation."
    "I hope you may, my lad, for your sake," cried the
Resurrection Man. "At all events the five quids will keep you from
starving for the next two months to come; so mind and be punctual this evening
at nine."
    "I shall not fail," answered Holford; and with
these words he departed.
    "Well, blow me, if I can make out now what you re up
to," exclaimed ·the Cracksman, as soon as he and his companion in infamy
were alone together.
    "You never thought that I should be fool enough to give
him five couters for doing nothing but humour us?" said the Resurrection
Man. "No - no : catch a weasel asleep - but not Tony Tidkins! Don't you
see that he has been making fools of us? I remember what a devil of a hurry he
was in to get me away from the palace, when I lighted upon him in the pantry,
and, altogether, I am convinced he has been doing his best to stall us off from
the business."
    "So I think," said the Cracksman.
    "Well," resumed the Resurrection Man, "we'll
just try what a few days of the pit under the staircase in my crib will do for
him. I have mended up the hole that opens into the saw-pit next door; and there
is no chance of his escaping. We must make him drink a glass at the
 
Dark House,
 
and drug the grog well, and we
needn't fear about being able to get him up into my street."
    "Ah! now I understand you," observed the
Cracksman: "only see what it is to have a head like your'n. The pit will
soon make him tell us the real truth."
    "And if not - if he remains obstinate —" mused the
Resurrection Man, aloud;- "why - in that case —"
    "We shall know what to do with him," added the
Cracksman.
    And the two miscreants exchanged glances of horrible
significancy.