Punch: Punch (81.1881)

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [December 10, 1881.

VolunteerCaptain (Acting Major first time). " Now then ! what are you Boys staring at? Did you never see a War-Horse

before?"

Boys {ivho had followed expecting a " spill.") "Aye—we've whiles seen a waur Horse, but never a waur Rider!"

THE CRIMINAL OE THE EUTURE.

{A Chapter from a fortlwoming Romance.)

Slippery Dick hurried away from the scene of his crime. His
knowledge of the law told him that his only chance of safety depended
upon immediate flight. "It is no time for idle remorse," he mur-
mured, as he rapidly disguised himself, by assuming a false nose, a
pair of blue spectacles, and the smock-frock of an agricultural
labourer. "The deed is done, and if I am caught I must pay the
penalty. Oh, would I were once again an innocent child ! "

And this strong man burst into a very agony of grief, and wept
long and bitterly. Though his career was stained with the deepest
guilt, yet he had a heart. Nay—more—he had a mother! He
remembered her at this supreme hour of his misery.

" Take a drink of water, mate," said a workman kindly. " You
look pale, and I think it will do you good."

Dick drained the goblet, to the dregs. Then he hurried on.

" Had that honest artizan known who and what I am," he thought
with a shudder, "would he have offered me a friendly drink ? "

Then he blushed all over with shame. For this guilty creature
had once been a churchwarden. He had been loved and respected
in the days gone by. His name had figured in subscription lists, and
he had a wife, children, and a happy home !

"All gone!" he murmured with a sob, "Ail gone! I am a
wretched outcast. I dare not take a man's hand, for did he recognise
me, he would spurn me for the miserable wretch I am ! "

By this time he had reached the railway station. He assumed the
dialect of the country, and asked for a third-class ticket to London.
It was given to him. As he hastily entered a compartment, he
fancied he heard the porters talking about him.

"If they catch him," said one of these officials, "he won't get
much mercy."

"And he don't deserve it," cried another, indignantly, "The
brute should be punished-"

Slippery Dick heard no more. He rushed into a smoking carriage
and muffling up his face_ in an old shawl, slunk into a dark
corn< r. They were discussing his crime even there !

"They say that he's escaped," observed a youth, who had
evidently been educated by the School Board, lighting his pipe.
" It will be disgraceful if he gets away. Such a miscreant should
not be at large for a single hour."

" Nay, you are too hard upon him," remonstrated a venerable
Clergyman, who was travelling third-class, apparently that he might
be able to give more to the deserving poor. " He may yet repent."

" Repent! " echoed the youth, puffing away at his pipe. " How
can such as he repent ? His wickedness is too great, Sir ! "

" It is never too late to mend ! " replied the benevolent and aged
ecclesiastic, looking at Slippery Dick, and raising his eyes to the
ceiling. " Believe me, even the most hardened ruffian may be won
over by gentleness and mercy."

Slippery Dick felt inclined to fall upon the good parson's neck,
and kiss him. With a superhuman effort he restrained his emotion.
And then they began to talk of his awful crime once again. Oh,
how they denounced him ! He could bear it no longer. He had to
open the window, to put his head out and shriek. At the very
first Station he quitted the train.

"This mental strain is too much for me," he cried. "I must
confess to somebody. My horrible secret is killing me! "

As he said this he turned round, and found the aged Clergyman
standing beside him.

" Ah ! you, Reverend Sir, shall know all my wickedness! " he cried.

" Stop! " shouted the other, suddenly throwing off a white wig
and a clerical wideawake ; " it is my duty to caution you that any-
thing you say will be taken down and used against you at your
trial. Wretched man, know that I am Hawkshaw the Detective ! "

The instinct of self-preservation is implanted in every breast.
Slippery Dick made a desperate effort to escape.

" No, you don't ! " cried Hawkshaw, seizing his prisoner by the
throat. " Your time is come. I have a warrant for your apprehen-
sion."

" On what charge ? "

Then came the awful answer—

"On the charge of bribery and corruption at the last contested
Election! " And loading his captive with gigantic chains, the
Detective dragged off the miserable culprit to prison !