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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 t.i.tle. He gave the boy a gla.s.s 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 prost.i.tutes, 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 a.s.sistance, _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 a.s.sistance 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 d.a.m.nable 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 and yet who was, previous to our marriage, defiled by co-habitation with a vile negro--and now _after_ our marriage, is still desirous of continuing her beastly intrigues. Davis is nothing but a low-born menial, without education or position, but Julia is by birth a lady, the daughter of a man of reputation and honor, moving in a brilliant sphere, possessing education and talent, admired as much for her beauty as for her accomplishments and wit--and for her to surrender her person to the lewd embraces of _any man_--much more a negro menial--is horrible! And then to allow herself to be led to the altar, enhanced her guilt tenfold; but what caps the climax of her crimes, is this last movement of hers, to continue her adulterous intercourse!
Heavens!--what a devil in the form of a lovely woman! But patience, patience! I must set about my plan of vengeance with patience.'
The reader of course need not be told, that the stranger of the Dark Vaults, and Frank Sydney, were one and the same person. The adventure had furnished him with the evidences of his wife's criminality and his servant's dishonesty and perfidy.
That same afternoon, the young gentleman sallied forth from his mansion, and took his way to the police office. On his way he mused thus:
'By capturing these two villains, the Dead Man and Fred Archer, I shall render an important service to the community. It is evident that the first of these men is a most diabolical wretch, capable of any crime; and the other, I am convinced, is the same Frederick Archer who is the husband of the unfortunate girl with whom I pa.s.sed the night not long since, at which time she related to me her whole history. He must be a most infernal scoundrel to make his wife prost.i.tute herself for his support; and he is a _burglar_ too, it seems. Society will be benefited by the imprisonment of two such wretches--and this very night shall they both lodge in the Tombs.'
When Frank arrived at the police office, he found a large crowd a.s.sembled; a young thief had just been brought in, charged with having abstracted a gentleman's pocket-book from his coat pocket, in Chatham Street. What was Frank's surprise at recognizing in the prisoner, the same boy who had been his companion in the Dark Vaults, on the proceeding night! The lad did not know Frank, for there was no similarity between the ragged, vagabond looking fellow of the night before, and the elegantly dressed young gentleman who now surveyed him with pity and interest depicted in his handsome countenance.
It was a clear case--the young offender was seen in the act, and the pocket-book was found in his possession. The magistrate was about to make out his commitment, when Frank stepped forward, and required what amount of bail would be taken on the premises?
'I shall require surety to the amount of five hundred dollars, as the theft amounts to grand larceny,' replied the magistrate.
'I will bail him, then,' said Frank.
'Very well, Mr. Sydney,' observed the magistrate, who knew the young gentleman perfectly well, and highly respected him.
'You will wait here in the office for me, until I have transacted some business, and then accompany me to my residence,' said Frank--'I feel interested in you, and, if you are worthy of my confidence hereafter, your future welfare shall be promoted by me.'
Frank had a long private interview with the magistrate. After having made arrangements for the capture of the two burglars, the young man urged the police functionary to take immediate measures for the breaking up of the band of desperate villains who lurked in the Dark Vaults, and the relief of the miserable wretches who found a loathsome refuge in that terrible place. The magistrate listened with attention and then said--
'I have long been aware of the existence of the secret, subterranean Vaults of which you allude, and so have the officers of the police; yet the fact is known to very, very few of the citizens generally. Now you propose that an efficient and armed force of the police and watch, make a sudden descent into the den, with the view of capturing the villains who inhabit it. Ridiculous!--why, sir, the thing is impossible: they have a mysterious pa.s.sage, unknown to any but themselves, by which they can escape and defy pursuit. The thing has been attempted twenty times, and as often failed. So much for the _villains_ of the den;--now in regard to the wretched beings whom you have described, if we took them from that hole, what in the world should we do with them? Put them in the prisons and almshouse, you say. That would soon breed contagion throughout the establishments where they might be placed, and thus many lives would be sacrificed thro' a misdirected philanthropy. No, no--believe me, Mr. Sydney, that those who take up their abode in the Vaults, and become diseased, and rot, and die there, had much better be suffered to remain there, far removed from the community, than to come into contact with that community, and impart their disease and pollution to those who are now healthy and pure. Those vaults may be regarded as the moral sewers of the city--the sc.u.m and filth of our vast population acc.u.mulate in them. With reference to the desperadoes who congregate there, their living is made by robbery and outrage throughout the city; and all, sooner or later, are liable to be arrested and imprisoned for their offences.'
'I admit the force of your reasoning,' said Frank--'yet I cannot but deeply deplore the existence of such a den of horrors.'
'A den of horrors indeed!' rejoined the magistrate. 'Why, sir, there are at this moment no less than six murderers in the Vaults--one of whom escaped from his cell the night previous to the day on which he was to be hung. The gallows was erected in the prison yard--but when the sheriff went to bring the convict forth to pay the penalty of his crime, his cell was empty; and upon the wall was written with charcoal,--'_Seek me in the Dark Vaults!_' The police authorities once blocked up every known avenue to the caverns, with the design of starving out the inmates; but they might have waited till doomsday for the accomplishment of that object, as the secret outlet which I have mentioned enabled the villains to procure stores of provisions, and to pa.s.s in and out at pleasure. I am glad that your scheme, Mr. Sydney, will tonight place in the grip of the law, two of these miscreants, one of whom, the Dead Man, has long been known as the blackest villain that ever breathed. He is a fugitive from justice, having a year ago escaped from the State Prison, where he had been sentenced for life, for an atrocious murder; he had been reprieved from the gallows, thro' the mistaken clemency of the Executive. He will now be returned to his old quarters, to fulfil his original sentence, and pa.s.s the remainder of his accursed life in imprisonment and exclusion from the world, in which he is not fit to dwell.'
Frank now took leave of the magistrate, and, accompanied by the young pickpocket, returned to his own residence. It was now about five o'clock, and growing quite dark; a drizzly rain was falling intermingled with snow. Frank conducted the boy to his library, and having carefully closed and locked the door, said to him--
'_Kinchen_, don't you know me?'
The boy started, and gazed earnestly at him for a few moments, and then shook his head.
'Wait here a short time, and I will return,' said Frank, and he stepped into a closet adjoining the library, and shut the door.