PAGE 5
Saved By Kindness
by
The two remained silent; for the sound of approaching footsteps momentarily grew more distinct. It sounded nearer, and now was in front of the door.
“To the closet,” whispered Harry; and in a moment Mr. Lang was the only occupant of the room. He was right in his supposition; for the door opened; and the same man, in the same cloak, with the same consequential air, accompanied by others, entered abruptly, and interrogated Harry rather closely. “Positively, I know nothing about him,” said Mr. Lang. This declaration seemed to have a wonderful effect upon each of the officers. They gazed steadfastly at him, then at each other, and their features indicated their belief in what he said.
“Benevolent as I am,” said the officer, “I must require a strict search;–not that we suspect him to be on your premises, noble sir, but my duty demands it.”
The officer, having thus far declared what he thought to be his duty, proceeded to its performance by pushing open the doors through which egress could be had to the street, and all others. As chance would have it, the right door was by them unobserved. But where was the fugitive? He had been hurried into a closet. It was not after the manner of most closets. It was about three feet square, at one side of which was a door communicating with the cellar, through which any person might pass, and from thence into the street. He could not stand long and listen to the loud converse of those without. He felt himself in danger if he remained, and determined upon leaving the closet. So, having passed into the cellar, he entered the street.
The night was dark; the hour late, and no persons stirring. Softly he crept beneath the window, and, perceiving none in the room but Harry, softly tapped the glass. Mr. Lang raised his arm, by which signal Bill understood that he was aware of his having left the closet. Then through back lanes, seldom pedestrianated, and narrow passages, he wended his way, with his stolen treasure closely held beneath the loose folds of his jacket. He passed on, till, reaching a dark street, he beheld a dim light in a low oyster-cellar; he entered. A black fellow was the proprietor, cook, etc. Bill asked for lodgings.
“Well, massa, dem I ‘ave; but I always take pay in advance from gemmen.”
Bill asked the price.
“Wall, ’tis fourpance on a chest, and threepance on de floor.”
Mr. Bang availed himself of the best accommodations, and accepted the chest. He stretched himself upon it, having settled the bill, but slept little. His mind was continually roaming. Now he imagined himself in the closet, with scarcely room to breathe, and an officer’s hand on the latch; now groping along untraversed paths, till, falling into some hole, he awoke from his revery.
‘T was near the dawn of day when, from his house, accompanied by the boy, Mr. Lang passed out in search of Bill. A light rain was falling, and in perspective he saw a dull, drizzly sort of a day,–a bad air for a low-spirited individual. The “blues” are contagious on such a day. Yet he strove to keep his spirits up, and to make the best of a bad job.
As he passed by the office of the broker, he perceived a crowd, and many anxious inquiries were heard respecting the robbery. It appeared the broker had received but little injury, and was as busy as any one in endeavoring to find out the rogue. Harry put on as bold a face as possible, and inquired of the broker the circumstances, which he very minutely narrated.
“Have you any suspicions of any one?” inquired Mr. Lang.
“Of no one,” was the brief response.
“It would be very sad if the rascal could not be found,” continued Mr. Lang. “The gallows is too good for one who would make such a cowardly attack, and treat with such baseness one who never harmed his fellow.”