Martin Hyde | Page 7

soon found other game, a
horse fallen down, or a drunken woman in the gutter, to divert their
idleness. Such sights seem to attract a London crowd at once.
The boys were strictly searched by the constable. The booty from their
pockets was turned out upon the table.
"Now, sir," said the constable to the bearded man, after he had made a
note of my story. "What is it they 'ad of you, sir?"
"A shagreen leather pocket-book," said the man. "There it is."
"This one?" said the constable.
"Yes."
"Oh," said the constable, opening the clasps, so that he could examine
the writing on the leaves. "What's inside?"
"A lot of figures," said the man. "Sums. Problems in arithmetic."
"Right," said the constable, handing over the book.
"Here you are, sir. What name, sir?"
"Edward Jermyn."

"Edward German," the constable repeated.
"Where d' you live, sir?"
"At Mr. Scott's in Fish Lane."
"Right, sir," said the constable, writing down the address, "You must
appear tomorrow at ten before Mr. Garry, the magistrate. You, too,
young master, to give your evidence."
At this the boys burst out crying, begging us not to appear, using all
those deceptive arts which the London thieves practise from childhood.
I, who was new to the world's deceits, was touched to the marrow by
their seeming misery. The constable roughly silenced them. "I know
you, he said. "I had my eye on you two ever since Christmas. Now
you'll go abroad to do a bit of honest work, instead of nickin' pockets.
Stow your blubbering now, or I'll give you Mogador Jack." He
produced "Mogador Jack," a supple shark's backbone, from behind the
door. The tears stopped on the instant.
After this, the bearded man showed me the way back to Fish Lane,
where Ephraim, who was at the door, looking out for me) gave me a
shrewd scolding, for venturing out without a guide.
Mr. Jermyn silenced him by giving him a shilling. The next day, Mr.
Jermyn took me to the magistrate's house, where the two thieves were
formally committed for trial. Mr. Jermyn told me that they would
probably be transported for seven years, on conviction at the Assizes;
but that, as they were young, the honest work abroad, in the plantations,
might be the saving of them. "So do not be so sad, Mr. Martin," he said.
"You do not know how good a thing you did when you looked out of
the window yesterday. Do you know, by the way, how much my book
is worth?"
"No, sir," I said.
"Well. It's worth more than the King's crown," he said.

"But I thought it was only sums, sir."
"Yes," he said, with a strange smile. "But some sums have to do with a
great deal of money. Now I want you to think tonight of something to
the value of twenty pounds or so. I want to give you something as a
reward for your smartness. Don't decide at once. Think it over. Here we
are at our homes, you see. We live just opposite to each other."
We were standing at this moment in the narrow lane at my uncle's door.
As he spoke, he raised his hand in a farewell salute with that dignity of
gesture which was in all his movements. On the instant, to my surprise,
the door of the house opposite opened slowly, till it was about half
open. No one opened it, as I could see; it swung back of itself. After my
friend had stepped across the threshold it swung to with a click in the
same mysterious way. It was as though it had a knowledge of Mr.
Jermyn's mind, as though the raised hand had had a magical power over
it. When I went indoors to my uncle's house I was excited. I felt that I
was in the presence of something romantic, something mysterious. I
liked Mr. Jermyn. He had been very kind. But I kept wondering why he
wore a false beard, why his door opened so mysteriously, why he
valued a book of sums above the worth of a King's crown. As for his
offer of a present, I did not like it, though he had not given me time to
say as much. I remembered how indignant the Oulton wherrymen had
been when a gentleman offered them money for saving his daughter's
life. I had seen the man robbed, what else could I have done? I could
have done no less than tell him. I resolved that I would refuse the gift
when next I saw him.
At dinner that day, I was full of Mr. Jermyn, much to my uncle's
annoyance.
"Who is this Mr. Jermyn, Martin?" he asked. "I don't know him. Is he a
gentleman?"
"Yes,