Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
CHAPTER CVIII
THE EXHUMATION
THE night was fine - frosty - and bright with the lustre of a
lovely moon.
Even the chimneys and gables of the squalid
houses of Globe Town appeared to
bathe their heads in that flood of silver light.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer pursued their way
towards the cemetery.
For some minutes they preserved a profound silence: at
length the Buffer exclaimed, "I only hope, Tony, that this business won't
turn out as bad as the job with young Markham three nights ago."
"Why should it?" demanded the Resurrection Man, in
a gruff tone.
"Well, I don't know why," answered the Buffer.
"P'rhaps, after all, it was just as well that feller escaped as he did. We
might have swung for it."
"Escape!" muttered the Resurrection Man, grinding
his teeth savagely. "Yes - he did escape
them
; but I haven't done with him
yet. He shall not get off so easy another time."
"I wonder who those chaps was that come up so
sudden?" observed the Buffer, after a pause.
"Friends of his, no doubt," answered Tidkins.
"Most likely he suspected a trap, or thought he would be on the right
side. But the night was to plaguy dark, anti the whole thing was to sudden,
it was impossible to form an idea of who the two strangers might
be."
"One on 'em was precious strong, I know," said the
Buffer. " But, for my part, I think you’d better leave the young feller
alone in future. It's no good standing the chance of getting scragged for mere
wengeance. I can't, understand that sort of thing. If you like to crack his
crib for him and hive the swag, I'm your man; but I'll have no more of a
business that's all danger and no profit."
"Well, well, as you like," said the Resurrection
Man, impatiently. "Here we are; so look alive."
They were now under the wall of the cemetery.
The Buffer clambered to the top of the wall, which was not
very high; and the Resurrection Man handed him the implements and tools, which
he dropped cautiously upon the ground inside the enclosure.
He then helped hit companion upon the wall; and in another
moment they stood together within the cemetery.
"Are you sure you can find the way to the right
grave?" demanded the Buffer in a whisper.
"Don't be afraid," was the reply: "I could go
straight up to it blindfold."
They then shouldered their implements, and the
Resurrection Man led the way to the spot where Mrs. Smith's anonymous lodger
had been buried.
"I'm afeard the ground's precious hard," observed
the Buffer, when he and his companion had satisfied themselves by a cautious
glance around that no one was watching their movements.
The eyes of these men had become so habituated to the
obscurity of night, in consequence of the frequency with which they pursued
their avocations during the darkness which cradled others to rest, that they
were possessed of the visual acuteness generally ascribed to the cat.
"We'll soon turn it up, let it be as hard as it
will," said the Resurrection Man, in answer to his comrade's remark.
Then, suiting the action to the word, he began his
operations hi the following manner.
He measured a distance of five paces from the head of the
grave. At the point thus marked he took a long iron rod and drove it in an
oblique direction through the ground towards one end of the coffin. So accurate
were his calculations relative to the precise spot in which the coffin was
embedded in the earth, that the iron rod struck against it the very first time
he thus sounded the soil.
"All right," he whispered to the Buffer.
He then took a spade and began to break up the earth just at
that spot where the end of the iron rod peeped out of the ground.
"Not so hard as you thought," he observed.
"The fact is, the whole burial-place is so mixed up with human remains,
that the clay is too greasy to freeze very easy."
"I s'pose that's it," said the Buffer.
The Resurrection Man worked for about ten minutes with a
skill and an effect that would have astonished even Jones the grave-digger
himself, had he been there to see. He then resigned the spade to the Buffer,
who took his turn with equal ardour and ability.
When his ten minutes elapsed, the resurrectionists regaled
themselves each with a dram from Tidkins' flask; and this individual then
applied himself once more to the work in hand. When he was wearied, the Buffer
relieved him; and thus did they fairly divide the toil until the excavation of
the ground was completed.
This portion of the task was finished in about forty
minutes. An oblique channel, about ten feet long, and three feet square at the
mouth, and decreasing only in length, as it verged towards the head of the
coffin at the bottom, was not formed.
The Resurrection Man provided himself with a stout chisel
the handle of which was covered with leather, and with a mallet, the ends of
which were also protected with pieces of the same material. Thus the former
instrument when struck by the latter emitted but little noise.
He then descended into the channel which terminated at the
very head of the coffin.
Breaking away the soil that lay upon that end of the coffin,
he inserted the chisel into the joints of the wood, and in a very few moments
knocked off the board that closed the coffin at that extremity.
The wood-work of the head of the shell was also removed with
ease - for Banks had purposely nailed those parts of the two cases very
slightly together.
The Resurrection Man next handed up the tools to his
companies, who threw him down a strong cord.
The end of this rope was then fastened under the armpits of
the corpse as it lay in its coffin.
This being done, the Buffer helped the Resurrection Man out
of the hole.
"So far, so good," said Tidkins: "it must be
close upon one o'clock. We have got a quarter of an hour left - and that's
plenty of time to do all that's yet to be done."
The two men then took the rope between them, and drew the
corpse gently out of its coffin - up the slope of the channel - and landed it
safely on the ground at a little distance from the mouth of the excavation.
The moon fell upon the pale features of the dead - those
features which were still as unchanged, save in colour, as if they had never
come in contact with a shroud - nor belonged to a body that lead been swathed
in a winding-sheet!
The contrast formed by the white figure and the black soil
on which it was stretched, would have struck terror to the heart of any one
save a resurrectionist.
Indeed, the moment the corpse was this, dragged forth from
its grave, the Resurrection Man thrust his hand into its breast, and felt for
the gold.
It was there - wrapped up as the undertaker has described..
"The blunt is all safe, Jack," said the
Resurrection Man; and he secured the coin about his person.
They then applied themselves vigorously to shovel back the
earth; but, when they had filled up the excavation, a considerable quantity of
the soil still remained to dispose of, it being impossible, in spite of
stamping down, to condense the earth into the same space from which it was
originally taken.
They therefore filled two sacks with the surplus soil, and
proceeded to empty them in different parts of the ground.
Their task we so far accomplished, when they heard the low
rumble of wheels in the lane outside the cemetery.
To bundle the corpse neck and heels into a sack, and gather
to their implements, was the work of only a few moments. They then conveyed
their burdens between them to the wall overlooking the lane, where the
well-known voice of Mr. Banks greeted their ears, as he stood upright in his
cart peering over the barrier into the cemetery.
"Got the blessed defunct?" said the undertaker
interrogatively.
"Right and tight," answered the Buffer; "and
the tin too. Now, then, look sharp - here's the tools."
"I've got 'em," returned Banks.
"Look out for the stiff 'un, then," added the
Buffer; and, aided by the Resurrection Man, he shoved the body up to the
undertaker, who deposited it in the bottom of his cart.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer then mounted the wall,
and got into the vehicle, in which they laid themselves down, so that any
person whom they might meet in the streets through which they were to pass
would only see one individual in the cart - namely, the driver. Otherwise, the
appearance of three men at that time of night, or rather at that hour in the
morning, might have excited suspicion.
Banks lashed the sides of his horse; and the animal started
offset a round pace.
Not a word was spoken during the short drive to the
surgeon's residence in the Cambridge Road.
When they reached his house the road was quiet
and deserted. A light glimmered
through the fanlight over the door; and the door itself was opened the moment
the cart stopped.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer sprang and, seeing that
the coast was clear, bundled the corpse out of the vehicle in an instant; then
in less than half a minute the "blessed defunct," as the undertaker
called it, was safely lodged in the passage of the surgeon's house.
Mr. Banks, as soon as the body was removed from his vehicle,
drove rapidly away. His portion of the night's work was done; and he knew that
his accomplices would give him his "reg'lars" when they should meet
again.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer conveyed the body into a
species of out-house, which the surgeon, who was passionately attached to
anatomical studies, devoted to purposes of dissection and physiological
experiment.
In the middle of this room, which was shout ten feet long
and six broad, stood a strong deal table, forming a slightly inclined plane.
The stone pavement of the out-house was perforated with holes in the immediate
vicinity of the table, so that the fluid which poured from subjects for
dissection might escape into a drain communicating with the common sewer. To
the ceiling, immediately above the head of the table, was attached a pulley
with a strong cord, by means of which a body might be supported in any position
that was most convenient to the anatomist.
The Resurrection Man and his companion carried the corpse
into this dissecting-room, and placed it upon the table, the surgeon holding a
candle to light their movements.
"Now, Jack," said Tidkins to the Buffer, "do
you take the stiff 'un out of the sack, and lay him along decently on the table
ready for business, while I retire a moment to this gentleman's study and settle
accounts with him."
"Well and good," returned the Buffer. "I'll
stay here till you come back."
The surgeon lighted another candle, which he placed on the
window-sill, and then withdrew, accompanied by the Resurrection Man.
The Buffer shut the door of the dissecting-room, because the
draught caused the candle to flicker, and menaced the light with extinction. He
then proceeded to obey the directions which he had received from his
accomplice.
The Buffer removed the sack from the body, which he then
stretched out at length upon the inclined table, taking care to place its head
on the higher extremity and immediately beneath the pulley.
"There, old feller," he said, "you're
comfortable, at any rate. What a blessin' it would be to your friends, if they
was ever to find out that you'd been had up again, to know into what skilful
hands you'd happened to fall!"
Thus musing, the Buffer turned his back listlessly towards
the corpse, and leant against the table on which it was lying.
"Let me see," he said to himself, "there’s
thirty-one pounds that was buried along with
him
, and then there's ten pounds
that the sawbones is a paying now to Tony for the
match
; that makes forty-one pounds,
and there's three to go shares. What does that make? Threes into four goes once
- threes into eleven goes three and two over - that's thirteen pounds a-piece,
and two pound to split —"
The Buffer started abruptly round, and became deadly pale.
He thought he heard a slight movement of the corpse, and his whole frame
trembled.
Almost at the same moment some object was hurled violently
against the window; the glass was shivered to atoms; the candle was thrown down
and extinguished; and total darkness reigned in the dissecting-room.
"Holloa!" cried the Buffer, turning sick at heart;
"what's that?"
Scarcely had these words escaped his lips when he felt his
hand suddenly grasped by the cold fingers of the corpse.
"O God!" cried the miscreant; and he fell
insensible across the body on the table.
CHAPTER CIX.
THE STOCK-BROKER.
UPON a glass-door, leading into offices on a ground floor in
Tokenhouse Yard, were the words "JAMES TOMLINSON,
Stock-broker.
"
It was about eleven o'clock in the morning.
A clerk was busily employed in writing at a desk in the
front office. The walls of this room were covered with placards, bills, and
prospectuses, all announcing the most gigantic enterprises, and whose principal
features were large figures expressing millions of money.
These prospectuses were of various kinds. Some merely put
forth schemes by which enormous profits were to be realised, but which had not
yet arrived to that state of maturity (the point at which the popular
gullibility has been laid hold of,) when Directors, Secretaries, and Treasurers
can be announced in a flaming list. Others denoted that the projectors had
triumphed over the little difficulty of obtaining good names to form a board;
and the upper part of this class of prospectuses was embellished with a perfect
array of M.P.'s, Aldermen, and Esquires.
The prospectuses, one and all, set forth, with
George-Robins-flourishes and poetico-hyperbolical flowers of rhetoric, the
unparalleled and astounding advantages to be reaped from the enterprises
respectfully submitted to public consideration and to the monied world
especially. The face of the globe was a complete paradise according to those
announcements. The interior of Africa was represented to be a perfect mine of
gold by the projectors of a company to trade to those salubrious parts; the
cannibals of the South Sea Islands became intelligent and interesting beings in
the language of another association of speculators; the majestic scenery of the
North Pole and the phenomena of the aurora borealis were held out by a
colonizing company as inducements to families to emigrate to Spitzbergen; the
originators of a scheme for forming railways in Egypt expatiated upon the
delights of travelling at the rate of sixty miles an hour through a land famous
for its antiquarian remains, and along the banks of a river where the young
alligators might he seen disporting in the sun; and numerous other prospectuses
of majestic enterprises developed their original principles and prospective
benefits to the astounded reader.
One would have imagined that any individual with a
five-pound note in his pocket, had only just to step into Mr. Tomlinson's
office, take five shares in as many enterprises, pay one pound deposit upon
each, and walk out again a man of vast wealth.
Mr. Tomlinson himself was seated in a decently
furnished room, which constituted
the "private office." He was looking well, but somewhat careworn, and
not quite so comfortable as a man who had passed through the Bankruptcy Court,
got his certificate, and was in business once more, might be expected to look.
In a word, he had a hard struggle to make his way respectably, and was
compelled to meddle in many things that shocked his somewhat sensitive
disposition.
A short, well-dressed, good-humoured man, with a small quick
eye, was sitting on one side of the fire, conversing with the
stock-broker.
"Well, Mr. Tomlinson," he said, "on those
conditions I will lend my name to the Irish Railway Company proposed. But,
remember, I require fifty shares, and I am not to pay a farthing for them."
"Oh, of course," cried Tomlinson; "that is
precisely the proposal I was instructed to make to you. The fact is, between
you and me, the projectors are all men of straw - one came out of Whitecross
Street Prison a few weeks ago, and another has been a bankrupt twice and an
insolvent seven times; and so they must raise heaven and earth to get good
names."
"'Tis their only plan - their only plan," answered
the gentleman; "and I flatter myself," he added, drawing himself up,
"that the countenance of Mr. Sheriff Popkins is not to be sneezed
at."
"On the contrary, my dear Mr. Popkins," said
Tomlinson, "your name will soon bring a host of others."
"I should think so, Mr. Tomlinson - I should think
so," was the self-sufficient reply.
"Well, then, Mr. Popkins, shall I make an appointment
for you to meet Messrs. Bubble and Chouse to-morrow morning at my office?"
"If you please, my dear sir. And now I wish you to do a
little matter for me. The fact is, I have been fool enough to take thirty shares
in a certain railway company, and I have been elected a director. The company
is in a most flourishing condition, and so I mean to make them purchase my
shares of me. You will accordingly have the kindness to let it be known on
'Change that you have my shares to sell; but you must mind and not part with
them. The thing will get to the Company's ears, and they will be terribly
alarmed at the prospect of the injury which may be done to the enterprise by a
director offering his shares for sale. They will then send and negotiate
with you privately, and you can make a good bargain with them."
"I understand," said Tomlinson. "I shall only
breathe a whisper about the shares being offered for sale, in a quarter whence
I know the rumour will immediately fly to the Directors of the Company."
"Good," observed Mr. Sheriff Popkins. "Here
is the scrip: you can tell me what you have done when I call to-morrow morning
to meet Messrs. Bubble and Choose."
The worthy sheriff then withdrew, and Mr. Alderman Sniff was
announced.
Mr. Tomlinson, said this gentleman, " I wish you to do
your best for a new Joint Stock-Company which I have just founded. This is the
prospectus."
The stock-broker glanced over it, and said, in a musing
manner, "Ah very good indeed - excellent! '
British Marble Company
.'
Famous idea! '
Capital Two Hundred Thousand Pounds in Ten Thousand Shares of
Twenty Pounds Each
.' Good again. '
Deposit One Pound per Share
.' That
will do. Then comes the Board of Directors - all good names. I see you have
made yourself Managing Director: well, that's quite fair! Then, again, '
Auditor,
Mr. Alderrnam Sniff; Treasurer. Mr. Alderman Sniff; Secretary, Mr. Alderman
Sniff
.' But who sells the quarry to the Company? Oh! I see, '
Mr.
Alderman Sniff
.'"
"Well, what do you think of it?" demanded the
alderman.
"You ask me candidly, my dear sir?"
"Certainly," replied the alderman.
"I think the plan is excellent. The only draw-back to
its success, is - shall I speak openly? "
"I wish you to do so."
"Then I am of opinion that you have given yourself too
many situations," continued Tomlinson. "In the first place you found
the Company, and you make yourself Managing Director. Well and good. But then
you also sell the quarry to the Company. Now, as Managing Director, you have to
award to yourself a sum for that quarry; as Treasurer you pay yourself; as
Secretary you draw up the agreements; and as Auditor you confirm your own
accounts !"
"Perfectly correct, Mr. Tomlinson. Is it not a rule
that Joint-Stock Companies are never to benefit any one save the founder?"
"Oh! no one denies that," answered the stock-
broker. "What I am afraid of is, that the public will not bite, when they
see one man occupying so many situations in the Company."
"Nonsense, my dear fellow! The name of an alderman will
carry every thing before it. Does not the world believe that the Aldermen of
the City of London are all as rich as Croesus? "
"Whereas, between you and me," returned Tomlinson
with a sly laugh, "there is scarcely one of them who has got a penny if
his affairs came to be wound up."
"And yet we live gloriously, ha! ha!" chuckled Mr.
Alderman Sniff. "But to return to my business: what can you do for
me?"
"I can certainly recommend the enterprise,"
answered Tomlinson. "But where can the marble be seen?"
"At my office," said the alderman. "I went
and bought the finest piece that was ever imported from Italy; and there it is
in my counting-house, labelled 'BRITISH MARBLE' in letters at least half a foot
high."
"Where is the quarry situated ?" inquired
Tomlinson.
"Oh! I haven't quite made up my mind about
that
yet," was the answer given
by Mr. Alderman Sniff. "The truth is, I am going down into Wales this
week, and I shall buy the first field I can get cheap in some rude part of the
country. That is the least difficulty in the whole enterprise."
" Your plans are admirable, my dear sir,"
exclaimed Tomlinson. " I will do all I can for you. Will you take a glass
of wine and a biscuit? "
"No, I thank you - not now," said the Alderman.
"I have promised a colleague to sit for him to-day at Guildhall
police-court. Last week I was on the rota for attendance there, and I remanded
a man who was brought up on a charge of obtaining three and sixpence under
false pretences."
"Indeed?" ejaculated Tomlinson, whose eyes were
fixed upon the "
Two Hundred Thousand Pounds
" in the alderman's
prospectus.
"Yes," continued Mr. Sniff; "and I am going
to sit to-day because that fellow comes up again. I mean to clear the City of
all such rogues and vagabonds. I shall give him a taste of the treadmill for
two months. So, good morning. By the by, call as you pass my office and have a
look at the marble; and mind," he added, sinking his voice,
"you don't let out that it
came from Italy. It is pure Welsh marble, remember!"
Alderman Sniff chuckled at this pleasant idea, and then
hastened to Guildhall, where he fully justified his character of being the most
severe magistrate in the City of-London.
A few minutes after Mr. Alderman Sniff had taken his
departure, Mr. Greenwood was announced.
"My dear Tomlinson, I am delighted to see you,"
said the capitalist. " It is really an age - a week at least -since
I saw you. How do matters get on? "
"I have prospects of doing an excellent business,"
answered Tomlinson. "The numberless bubble companies that are started
every day, are the making of us stock-brokers. We dispose of shares or effect
transfers, and obtain our commission, let the result be what it may to the
purchasers."
"And I hope that you have conquered those ridiculous
qualms of conscience which always made a coward of you, when you were in
Lombard Street?" said Greenwood.
"
Needs must when the devil drives
,"
observed Tomlinson drily.
"For my part," continued Greenwood, "I take
advantage of this mania on the part of the English for speculation in
joint-stock companies and railway shares. A day of reaction will come and the
effects will be fearful. Thousands and thousands of families will be involved
in irretrievable ruin. That day may not occur for one year - two years - five
years - or even ten years ;- but come it will; and the signal for it will be
when the House of Commons is inundated with railway and joint-stock company
business, and when it is compelled to postpone a portion of that business until
the ensuing session. Then confidence will receive a shock: an interval for calm
meditation will occur; and the result will be awful. Every one will be anxious
to sell shares, and there will be no buyers. Now mark my words, Tomlinson; and,
if you speculate on your own account, speculate accordingly.
I
do so."
"And you are not likely to go wrong, I know," said
Tomlinson. "But stock-brokers do not risk any money of their own: they
have plenty of clients, who will do that for them."
"Then you are really thriving?" asked Greenwood.
"I am earning a living, and my business is increasing.
But I feel hanging like a mill-stone round my neck the thousand pounds which
you lent me at twenty per cent. —"
"Yes -
only
twenty per cent."
"
Only
at twenty per cent.,"
continued Tomlinson with a sigh: "and I am unable to return you more than
one hundred at present, although I agreed to pay you two hundred every four
months."
"The hundred will do," said Greenwood; and he
wrote out a receipt for that amount.
Tomlinson handed him over a number of notes, which
Greenwood. counted and then consigned to his pocket.
"There is a pretty business to be done in the City
now," said the capitalist, after a pause. " I contrive to snatch an
hour or two now and then from the time which I am compelled to devote to the
enlightened and independent body that returned me to Parliament; and I seldom
come into the City on those occasions without lending a few hundreds to some
poor devil who has over-bought himself in shares."
"I have no doubt that you thrive, Greenwood," said
the stock-broker. " Every man who takes advantage of the miseries of
others must get on."
"To be sure - to be sure," cried the Member of
Parliament. " I hope that you will act upon that principle."
"I have no reason to complain of the business that I am
now doing: I act as honestly as I can - and that principle deprives me of
many advantageous affairs. Then I experience annoyance from a constant
reminiscence of that poor old man who so nobly sacrificed himself for me."
"The eternal cry!" ejaculated Greenwood. "If
you are so very anxious to find him out, put an advertisement in the
Times
—"
"And if he saw it, he would believe it to be a
stratagem of the police to arrest him. You know that there is a warrant out
against him. The official assignee took that step."
"Well, let him take his chance; and if he should happen
to be captured, we will petition the Home Secretary to diminish the period for
which he will be sentenced to transportation. Not that such a step would
benefit him much, because his age —"
"Let us drop this subject, Greenwood," said
Tomlinson, evidently affected.
"With all my heart. I must admit that it moves one's
feelings; and if I met the old man in the Street, I should not hesitate to give
him a guinea out of my own pocket."
"A guinea!" cried Tomlinson - and a smile of
contempt curled his lips. "Perhaps you would recommend me to bestow a
five-pound note upon that poor Italian nobleman whom you cheated out of his
fifteen thousand pounds."
"You need not call him a poor nobleman," answered
Greenwood. "He is now worth ten thousand pounds a-year."
"Indeed! A great change must have taken place, then, in
his fortunes?" exclaimed Tomlinson.
"The fact, in a few words, is this. A young lady, whom
I knew well," said Greenwood, "obtained letters of introduction from
Count Alteroni to certain friends of his in Montoni, the capital of Castelcicala,
to which state she repaired for the benefit of her health, or some such
frivolous reason. She had the good fortune to captivate the Grand Duke —"
"Miss Eliza Sydney, you mean?" said Tomlinson.
"The same. Did you know her?"
"Not at all. But I read in the newspapers the account
of her marriage with Angelo III. Proceed."
"The moment she married the Grand Duke, a pension of
ten thousand a-year was granted to Count Alteroni, by way of indemnification, I
have heard, for his estates, which were confiscated after he had fled the
country in consequence of political intrigues."
"How did you learn all this?"
"My valet Filippo happens to be a native of Montoni,
and he seems well acquainted with all that passes in Castelcicala. Count Alteroni
and his family have returned to the villa which they formerly inhabited at
Richmond."
"I am delighted to hear this good news. You have taken
a considerable weight off my mind; the transaction with that nobleman was
always a subject of self-reproach."
"I dare say," observed Mr. Greenwood ironically;
then, drawing his chair closer to Tomlinson's seat, he added, "You are no
doubt the most punctilious and conscientious of all City men. I have something
to communicate to you, and must do it briefly