OR, THE MAN FROM BELOW.*

CHAP. XXVII. THE FRUITLESS SEARCH.

Few things in nature are more startlingly different than the eve and the morrow of crime. The approaches to it are so often disguised by excitement and the influence of the more turbulent passions, that they appear rather pleasing than otherwise. But when the deed has been done-when blood, for example, has been shed-when the immortal soul has been dislodged violently from its mansion of clay, a strange revulsion of feeling takes place. A veil seems to drop from before the eyes of the criminal, and where he could previously discover nothing but the encouraging forms of vengeance and punishment, he discerns the dark encircling flames of hell shooting up into the lurid air, filled with spectral apparitions, ready to start forth and drag him to his doom; and to escape from visions of the mind so appalling many deliver themselves up to justice, preferring an ignominious death to the perpetual stings of conscience.

The night after the murder numerous colliers were collected together at the Jarrow, the small public-house in the hollow where Paul remained a sort of prisoner on parole. Among them appeared one man of most dismal and dejected aspect. He drank, he smoked, he made an effort to talk loud and appear as jovial as his companions; but there was evidently a weight upon his brain which he could not shake off. The brandy-and-water would not make him drunk; it seemed to have lost its strength, and went down his throat as harmlessly as so much puddle. To a casual observer this individual would have appeared to be much courted; all the colliers made a point of shaking hands with him and asking him to drink, while several of them patted him on the shoulder, and said he had done good service to his marrows.

But those rough vagabonds, in whatever other vices they might excel, were no great proficients in jesuitry. Their mirth was easily discovered to be forced, and their sympathy to be affected. An expression of loathing involuntarily sat on their grim countenances; and when they had shaken hands with the individual in question, they unconsciously wiped their palm against their corduroys, as if to remove some stain of pollution. With the quick perception which guilt imparts, the man penetrated into their thoughts, and his soul became wrapped, as he did so, in tenfold darkness and horror. He was the murderer. The farce of drawing lots had proved useless, for being unaccustomed to the trade of blood, he immediately betrayed himself, whilst seeking, by all the sophistry of which the rude heart is master, to reconcile his mind to the wild act he had performed, by falling back on the supposed purity of his motives, and the magnitude and goodness of the object he had in view. His efforts, however, proved unavailing, and to obtain some respite from mental suffering he swallowed a quantity of raw spirits, which at length procured him the temporary oblivion he coveted. With a half-smoked pipe in his hand, he fell back, pale and ghastly, in his chair, and dropped into a deep sleep.

While he continued in this state the other colliers all retired, leaving no one but Paul and the murderer in the room. It was some time past midnight when he awoke. The candles had burnt low in their sockets, and the wicks made winding sheets and coffins, under the direction of those malevolent sprites which love to terrify and bewilder unhappy human beings, by fore-showing evils to come. How aghast looked the wretched man, as his eyes wandered round the empty room in search of some one whose company might deliver him from his own thoughts! At length he perceived Paul, curled up fast asleep in an arm-chair; and starting up, made over-half reeling, half walking-towards him, that he might enjoy the satisfaction of hearing a human voice, without which life now

*Continued from page 63.

appeared to be insupportable. He had risen the day before one of the gayest and most reckless of the pitmen; his energy knew no bounds, and he did his work in the court-house with a resolution which would have done honour to a Spanish brigand. But then came the collapse. The world, which had seemed to him so material before, now appeared to lose its solidity and shrink away, leaving nothing but an agglomeration of unsubstantial vapours, upon which his spirit could find no footing. With a gentle shake he roused the slumbering boy.

"What is the matter ?" cried Paul, who had now grown so accustomed to the uncouth manners of the colliers, that he experienced neither alarm nor an

noyance.

"Nothing," replied the man, in a soothing voice; "only I want to talk with you."

"I'm nation sleepy," cried Paul; "but fire away, I'll keep myself awake if I

can."

"You're a good boy," answered the murderer; "but tell me, now, did you ever kill anybody?

Yes, seven or eight," replied Paul.

"What! men?"

"I don't know as they were all men, I think there was some children among 'em."

"How did you do it?"

66

Why, I left the trap-door open, to be sure, and blowed 'em up."

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"No: I was nation sleepy, as I am now, and dropped off into a good sound nap; and when I came to myself again the mischief was done."

"And don't you feel very miserable?"

No, I can't say as I do; it was an accident-I couldn't help it; and some day, perhaps, I shall be blowed up myself by the carelessness of some little devil, just such as I was then."

"But what would you say to a man who had killed another on purpose?" "Do you mean a murderer?" inquired Paul.

"No-not exactly that," answered the man, with a sort of panting voice "not exactly abut a man who had killed another for the good of

the public.

"Do you mean a sodger or a hangman?

The man put his hand to his neck, as if he felt the rope already about it; and then said in a low voice-"No, no; I don't speak of sodgers or hangmen, but of a person who kills rich and wicked men, that try to oppress the poor." "That's God's business," answered Paul; "we should leave it to Him: He knows best about them things; and, as Mr. Link used to say, no good ever comes of our meddling with his duty."

Ay, but Providence is slow, and when you're suffering you don't know what is best."

"No, you don't; but it's always best, at all events, not to do nothing that you can't account for either in this world or the next."

The murderer's only reply was a deep groan. Paul started.

"Arn't you well?" inquired he.

"Not very,' replied the murderer, in a subdued tone; "but tell me this: supposing you saw a murderer before you, would you shake hands with him? "I'd rather not," answered Paul; "but if it was likely to be of any service to him, I'd do it."

"Would you give him up to a constable ?

"Because I ain't a thief-taker or a policeman, and I don't like to get people scragged, even when they deserve it."

"But supposing they offered you money?"

Well, they might offer, but they wouldn't be none the nearer the mark; I

V

rather obstinate in my notions, and what I think is right I'll do, whether people like it or not but, hark, what's that, I hear feet shuffling about the bobosong bus egil aid tid 9H

window ?"

8

"Where-which side ?" exclaimed the man. Oh, God! they'll take me. "For what?" inquired Paul, as his companion made towards the back window. yse of bib tra "I'm a murderer!" he replied, as he opened the casement and leaped out into the dark. Til tuoas

T

Well," muttered Paul to himself, “I guessed as much," and then closing and fastening the casement, and blowing out the candles, he returned to his armchair and curled himself up as before. ibu in dunsights..i s boopbeing so

Several men were now heard thundering at the front door, and demanding instant admittance. They knocked for some time, however, because the landlord having taken a stiff night-cap in the evening, could not be easily waked; and no one else was disposed to perform his duty. At length, however, mine host crawled out of bed and opened the front door, upon which a posse of constables with staves and dark lanterns rushed in, fastened the door after them, and immediately began to search for the murderer, whom they affirmed to be concealed somewhere in the house. Well enough did the landlord know he had been there, but affecting the most complete ignorance, he invited them to look

everywhere, being, he said my sure they would find no evil-disposed person in his domicile. It is, fact, every man's duty to stand up for the honour of his own premises. How should there be anything bad under his roof? And we have all of us a gentle way ay of interpreting ourselves and our own actions, and are apt to imagine that people catch goodness by associating with us, as they do another complaint by coming into too close contact with Scotchmen. The event quite justified Mr. Tosspot's prediction, as the only individual, besides the family, whom the constables were able to ferret out, was Master Paul Pevensey. Him they questioned with much pertinacity, but without becoming much the wiser. They had noticed, they said, a light in the window on first coming up to the why was it put out ?"

..:: Because I can't sleep pro the house

แ But hadn't you been asleep before ?" "Yes."

66

candles in the room."

"Why didn't you put the candles out at first ?"

5567

"Because there was people here when I went to sleep, and they would have pitched pretty handsomely into me if I had attempted to leave them where Moses was when his candle went out."

"You're a saucy little vagabond," said one of the constables.

tr Ditto," answered Paul, minus the little,"

the

Neighbour," observed the leading man among the posse, "this lad is not person we've come to seize in the Queen's name, be civil, therefore, and we

may fish something out of him."

"Oh, oh," thought Paul, "don't you wish you may get it ?" The interrogatories were then resumed.

"Tell us, my little man, have you been sleeping all the evening by your

self?",

No; I told you there was a great many people here when I first went to sleep."

"But afterwards ?"

66 Big enough to make a constable and a-half."

The superior functionary, who was very short, here stood in need of his philosophy. He bit his lips and proceeded."

"Did he talk with you ?"

"Yes."

"What did he say ?"

A great deal too much to remember."

"Did he hint anything about killing any person?"

66

Why," answered Paul, " you must be witty people here in the North if your murderers go about pot-houses telling their secrets to little boys."

This produced a hearty laugh among the whole party, and Paul was asked no more questions. The constables soon afterwards departed, and Paul resuming his arm-chair, at length fell asleep again; and did not wake till late in the morning.

CHAPTER XXVIII.-THE GIBBET IN THE JARROW SLAKE.

Ir is altogether unnecessary for the purposes of the present narrative to trace any further the progress of the murderer; suffice it to say, that on the very day after he had effected his escape from the Jarrow, he was apprehended on the high road-conveyed to the county town, and there found guilty and executed. Considerable apprehension was felt during the whole course of the proceedings, that the insurgent colliers, numbering nearly five thousand, would burst into the town, and attempt at least the rescue of their marrow, which would have led to much confusion and slaughter. No effort could properly be said to have been made to pacify them; on the contrary, they were treated with peculiar harshness driven forcibly from their cottages, and compelled to encamp in rude tents upon the moors; so that their feelings were exasperated to the highest pitch, and there was every day reason to fear an outbreak and collision with the military.

But it has often been remarked, that colliers habitually exhibit above ground little of that daring which distinguishes them in the pit. The glare of day, the bustle of ordinary life, the unusual sights and sounds by which they are surrounded, the vastness of the earth, and overhanging skies, literally bewilder them. Accustomed to a confined space, and to combat with invisible enemies, such as fiery gases, and pestilential miasmata, they feel out of their element when brought in contact with soldiers, or the servants of the law. Tamely, therefore, and patiently did they endure the execution of their unfortunate instrument, whose death broke up the association of assassins, which in its entire nature was foreign from the character of Englishmen. They assembled in dense masses on the plains; their tents rang with noise and shouting-they put themselves in menacing attitudes and marched wildly hither and thither, without any positive result. Conscious of their own weakness, they soon began secretly to regret the turbulent course they had adopted, and to wish themselves safely back at their subterranean employments.

It

The authorities, however, to give the last stroke to their humiliation, and prove to them the utter contempt in which they were held by the ruling classescaused a lofty gibbet to be erected in the midst of the stream called the Jarrow Slake, and there hung the murderer's body in chains, to be torn and lacerated, and borne away piecemeal by the fowls of the air. The place they selected for this barbarous exhibition was exceedingly well adapted to the purpose, was a spot where the river ran between two black rocks, which shelved somewhat abruptly on either side to the water's edge; while numerous gloomy ravines and gulleys brought down in rainy weather the additions made to the Jarrow by momentary tributaries. Here and there a few stunted bushes tried to grow on the ungrateful soil, but they looked sad and blackened, and their leaves dropped off long before they had felt the touch of autumn.

As the river in that place has little fall, the eye could scarcely detect in what direction it flows, so that in short reaches, it had the appearance of a stagnant pool. In its broad and sluggish bed, however, there are several small islets, flat, slimy, and slippery, and upon one of these the gibbet was erected—a monument little creditable to the civilisation of our times. We know, of course, that the corpse of a malefactor feels nothing, and that, therefore, excepting so far as the sentiments are concerned, it signifies little whether you suspend a bundle of rags upon the gibbet, or the clay which has contained the human spirit. But to the feeling of humanity it signifies very much. We attach a sort of veneration to the frame of man, and are saddened and displeased when we behold it thus thrust forward in the face of the open sky, to be preyed upon by kites and ravens, and as decomposition takes place, to drop like offal into the stream. The idea of such a punishment is unworthy of any period of civilisation, and proves, wherever it takes place, that the savage is not extinct in that community. It was with a mixture of dejection and fury that the colliers beheld the remains of their late companion thus gibbeted within sight of their tents; and the creaking of the irons, as the heavy corpse swung to and fro in the breeze, struck painfully on their hearts.

Paul was still kept a prisoner among them, though for what reason scarcely appeared; they had no longer anything to dread; the law had done its worst in the case of the only real crime committed, and they designed not to continue the contest; but they were highly indignant that their wretched comrade had been denied the common rites of humanity, and treated like one of those vermin that infest our rural districts. Fierce, therefore, and fiery were the denunciations which they uttered against those whom they styled their persecutors. Sometimes they congregated in vast masses, and with tumultuous shouts and yells uttered vows of vengeance; sometimes they met in little knots, and spoke together with hushed voices, discussing plans and projects into which Paul became initiated by degrees. He had now been removed from the public-house to the tent of a man named Daniel Filmer, who, though of a rude and boisterous character, was highly communicative, and seemed to experience some sort of interest in conversing with his little guest. He was somewhat advanced in years, had no children, and lived with his wife, a woman of about his own age, on those terms of rough sociability which might be expected from persons who, though attached to each other, were both ignorant, uncouth, and incapable of giving vent to their feelings, such as they were. Mrs. Filmer scarcely differed from her husband in appearance, being brawny and masculine by nature, and having worked all her lifetime in the pit. Paul almost fancied she had a beard, and her voice was as harsh and rough as her husband's. Why he was placed with this couple, except that they had no children, he could never learn; they wanted no services from him, though Mrs. Filmer did ask him occasionally to stir the pot, or fetch a little water from the Jarrow. When the gibbet, however, was set up, most persons felt an invincible repugnance to drink of that stream, especially from below where it stood; and you might therefore all day see colliers and their wives making weary journeys to distant rivulets, rather than resort to the polluted river.

One evening, as it was getting dusk, Mrs. Filmer asked Paul to fetch her a pitcher of water. He was not naturally lazy, but as the next rivulet was at least a mile and a half off, he determined to take his way to the Jarrow in preference, as the distance thither was not many hundred yards. Of approaching the gibbet he had no fear; it served him as a sort of land-mark, and he edged away to the right so as to reach the margin of the stream, which he did through a narrow gully a little above where it stood. It had been a fine day, and the evening was peculiarly delicious and balmy. A tinge of saffron still coloured the western sky, though the stars on the opposite side of the hemisphere had already made their appearance. A gentle breeze was blowing, just sufficiently powerful to give motion to the corpse on the gibbet, so that he could hear the creaking sound, which sent a sort of superstitious thrill to his frame. As he stood on the