ON our way back I received from the runner some explanation ofhis apparently unaccountable proceedings in reference to myself.

To begin at the beginning, it turned out that the first act ofthe officers, on their release from the workroom in the red-brickhouse, was to institute a careful search for papers in thedoctor's study and bedroom. Among the other documents that he hadnot had time to destroy, was a letter to him from Alicia, whichthey took from one of the pockets of his dressing-gown. Finding,from the report of the men who had followed the gig, that he haddistanced all pursuit, and having therefore no direct clew to hiswhereabout, they had been obliged to hunt after him in variousdirections, on pure speculation. Alicia's letter to her fathergave the address of the house at Crickgelly; and to this therunner repaired, on the chance of intercepting or discovering anycommunications which the doctor might make to his daughter, Screwbeing taken with the officer to identify the young lady. Afterleaving the last coach, they posted to within a mile ofCrickgelly, and then walked into the village, in order to exciteno special attention, should the doctor be lurking in theneighborhood. The runner had tried ineffectually to gainadmission as a visitor at Zion Place. After having the door shuton him, he and Screw had watched the house and village, and hadseen me approach Number Two. Their suspicions were directlyexcited.

Thus far, Screw had not recognized, nor even observed me; but heimmediately identified me by my voice, while I was parleying withthe stupid servant at the door. The runner, hearing who I was,reasonably enough concluded that I must be the recognized mediumof communication between the doctor and his daughter, especiallywhen he found that I was admitted, instantly after calling, pastthe servant, to some one inside the house.

Leaving Screw on the watch, he went to the inn, discoveredhimself privately to the landlord, and made sure (in more waysthan one, as I conjectured) of knowing when, and in whatdirection, I should leave Crickgelly. On finding that I was toleave it the next morning, with Alicia and Mrs. Baggs, heimmediately suspected that I was charged with the duty of takingthe daughter to, or near, the place chosen for the father'sretreat; and had therefore abstained from interfering prematurelywith my movements. Knowing whither we were bound in the cart, hehad ridden after us, well out of sight, with his countryman'sdisguise ready for use in the saddle-bags-- Screw, in case of anymistakes or mystifications, being left behind on the watch atCrickgelly.

The possibility that I might be running away with Alicia hadsuggested itself to him; but he dismissed it as improbable, firstwhen he saw that Mrs. Baggs accompanied us, and again, when, onnearing Scotland, he found that we did not take the road toGretna Green. He acknowledged, in conclusion, that he should havefollowed us to Edinburgh, or even to the Continent itself, on thechance of our leading him to the doctor's retreat, but for theservant girl at the inn, who had listened outside the door whileour brief marriage ceremony was proceeding, and from whom, withgreat trouble and delay, he had extracted all the information herequired. A further loss of half an hour's time had occurredwhile he was getting the necessary help to assist him, in theevent of my resisting, or trying to give him the slip, in makingme a prisoner. These small facts accounted for the hour's respitewe had enjoyed at the inn, and terminated the runner's narrativeof his own proceedings.

On arriving at our destination I was, of course, immediatelytaken to the jail.

Alicia, by my advice, engaged a modest lodging in a suburb ofBarkingham. In the days of the red-brick house, she had seldombeen seen in the town, and she was not at all known by sight inthe suburb. We arranged that she was to visit me as often as theauthorities would let her. She had no companion, and wanted none.Mrs. Baggs, who had never forgiven the rebuke administered to herat the starting-point of our journey, left us at the close of it.Her leave-taking was dignified and pathetic. She kindly informedAlicia that she wished her well, though she could notconscientiously look upon her as a lawful married woman; and shebegged me (in case I got off), the next time I met with arespectable person who was kind to me, to profit by rememberingmy past errors, and to treat my next benefactress with moreconfidence than I had treated her.

My first business in the prison was to write to Mr. Batterbury.

I had a magnificent ease to present to him, this time. Although Ibelieved myself, and had succeeded in persuading Alicia, that Iwas sure of being recommended to mercy, it was not the less thefact that I was charged with an offense still punishable bydeath, in the then barbarous state of the law. I delicatelystated just enough of my case to make one thing clear to the mindof Mr. Batterbury. My affectionate sister's interest in thecontingent reversion was now ( unless Lady Malkinshaw perverselyand suddenly expired) actually threatened by the Gallows!

While calmly awaiting the answer, I was by no means withoutsubjects to occupy my attention when Alicia was not at theprison. There was my fellow-workman--Mill--(the first member ofour society betrayed by Screw) to compare notes with; and therewas a certain prisoner who had been transported, and who had somevery important and interesting particulars to communicate,relative to life and its chances in our felon-settlements at theAntipodes. I talked a great deal with this man; for I felt thathis experience might be of the greatest possible benefit to me.

Mr. Batterbury's answer was speedy, short, and punctual. I hadshattered his nervous system forever, he wrote, but had onlystimulated his devotion to my family, and his Christian readinessto look pityingly on my transgressions. He had engaged the leaderof the circuit to defend me; and he would have come to see me,but for Mrs. Batterbury; who had implored him not to exposehimself to agitation. Of Lady Malkinshaw the letter said nothing;but I afterward discovered that she was then at Cheltenham,drinking the waters and playing whist in the rudest health andspirits.

It is a bold thing to say, but nothing will ever persuade me thatSociety has not a sneaking kindness for a Rogue.

For example, my father never had half the attention shown to himin his own house, which was shown to me in my prison. I have seenHigh Sheriffs in the great world, whom my father went to see,give him two fingers--the High Sheriff of Barkinghamshire came tosee me, and shook hands cordially. Nobody ever wanted my father'sautograph--dozens of people asked for mine. Nobody ever put myfather's portrait in the frontispiece of a magazine, or describedhis personal appearance and manners with anxious elaboration, inthe large type of a great newspaper--I enjoyed both those honors.Three official individuals politely begged me to be sure and makecomplaints if my position was not perfectly comfortable. Noofficial individual ever troubled his head whether my father wascomfortable or not. When the day of my trial came, the court wasthronged by my lovely countrywomen, who stood up panting in thecrowd and crushing their beautiful dresses, rather than miss thepleasure of seeing the dear Rogue in the dock. When my fatheronce stood on the lecturer's rostrum, and delivered his excellentdiscourse, called "Medical Hints to Maids and Mothers on TightLacing and Teething," the benches were left empty by theungrateful women of England, who were not in the slightest degreeanxious to feast their eyes on the sight of a learned adviser andrespectable man. If these facts led to one inevitable conclusion,it is not my fault. We Rogues are the spoiled children ofSociety. We may not be openly acknowledged as Pets, but we allknow, by pleasant experience, that we are treated like them.

The trial was deeply affecting. My defense --or rather mybarrister's--was the simple truth. It was impossible to overthrowthe facts against us; so we honestly owned that I got into thescrape through love for Alicia. My counsel turned this to thebest possible sentimental account. He cried; the ladies cried;the jury cried; the judge cried; and Mr. Batterbury, who haddesperately come to see the trial, and know the worst, sobbedwith such prominent vehemence, that I believe him, to this day,to have greatly influenced the verdict. I was stronglyrecommended to mercy and got off with fourteen years'transportation. The unfortunate Mill, who was tried after me,with a mere dry-eyed barrister to defend him, was hanged.

POSTSCRIPT.

WITH the record of my sentence of transportation, my life as aRogue ends, and my existence as a respectable man begins. I amsorry to say anything which may disturb popular delusions on thesubject of poetical justice, but this is strictly the truth.

My first anxiety was about my wife's future.

Mr. Batterbury gave me no chance of asking his advice after thetrial. The moment sentence had been pronounced, he allowedhimself to be helped out of court in a melancholy state ofprostration, and the next morning he left for London. I suspecthe was afraid to face me, and nervously impatient, besides, totell Annabella that he had saved the legacy again by anotheralarming sacrifice. My father and mother, to whom I had writtenon the subject of Alicia, were no more to be depended on than Mr.Batterbury. My father, in answering my letter, told me that heconscientiously believed he had done enough in forgiving me forthrowing away an excellent education, and disgracing arespectable name. He added that he had not allowed my letter formy mother to reach her, out of pitying regard for her brokenhealth and spirits; and he ended by telling me (what was perhapsvery true) that the wife of such a son as I had been, had noclaim upon her father-in-law's protection and help. There was anend, then, of any hope of finding resources for Alicia among themembers of my own family.

The next thing was to discover a means of providing for herwithout assistance. I had formed a project for this, aftermeditating over my conversations with the returned transport inBarkingham jail, and I had taken a reliable opinion on thechances of successfully executing my design from the solicitorwho had prepared my defense.

Alicia herself was so earnestly in favor of assisting in myexperiment, that she declared she would prefer death to itsabandonment. Accordingly, the necessary preliminaries werearranged; and, when we parted, it was some mitigation of ourgrief to know that there was a time appointed for meeting again.Alicia was to lodge with a distant relative of her mother's in asuburb of London; was to concert measures with this relative onthe best method of turning her jewels into money; and was tofollow her convict husband to the Antipodes, under a feignedname, in six months' time.

If my family had not abandoned me, I need not have thus left herto help herself. As it was, I had no choice. One consolationsupported me at parting--she was in no danger of persecution fromher father. A second letter from him had arrived at Crickgelly,and had been forwarded to the address I had left for it. It wasdated Hamburg, and briefly told her to remain at Crickgelly, andexpect fresh instructions, explanations, and a supply of money,as soon as he had settled the important business matters whichhad taken him abroad. His daughter answered the letter, tellinghim of her marriage, and giving him an address at a post-officeto write to, if he chose to reply to her communication. There thematter rested.

What was I to do on my side? Nothing but establish a reputationfor mild behavior. I began to manufacture a character for myselffor the first days of our voyage out in the convict-ship; and Ilanded at the penal settlement with the reputation of being themeekest and most biddable of felonious mankind.

After a short probationary experience of such low convictemployments as lime-burning and road-mending, I was advanced tooccupations more in harmony with my education. Whatever I did, Inever neglected the first great obligation of making myselfagreeable and amusing to everybody. My social reputation as agood fellow began to stand as high at one end of the world asever it stood at the other. The months passed more quickly than Ihad dared to hope. The expiration of my first year oftransportation was approaching, and already pleasant hints of mybeing soon assigned to private service began to reach my ears.This was the first of the many ends I was now working for; andthe next pleasant realization of my hopes that I had to expect,was the arrival of Alicia.

She came, a month later than I had anticipated; safe andblooming, with five hundred pounds as the produce of her jewels,and with the old Crickgelly alias (changed from Miss to Mrs.Giles), to prevent any suspicions of the connection between us.

Her story (concocted by me before I left England) was, that shewas a widow lady, who had come to settle in Australia, and makethe most ofher little property in the New World. One of the first thingsMrs. Giles wanted was necessarily a trustworthy servant, and shehad to make her choice of one among the convicts of goodcharacter, to be assigned to private service. Being one of thathonorable body myself at the time, it is needless to say that Iwas the fortunate man on whom Mrs. Giles's choice fell. The firstsituation I got in Australia was as servant to my own wife.

Alicia made a very indulgent mistress.

If she had been mischievously inclined, she might, by applicationto a magistrate, have had me flogged or set to work in chains onthe roads, whenever I became idle or insubordinate, whichhappened occasionally. But instead of complaining, the kindcreature kissed and made much of her footman by stealth, afterhis day's work. She allowed him no female followers, and onlyemployed one woman-servant occasionally, who was both old andugly. The name of the footman was Dear in private, and Francis incompany; and when the widowed mistress, upstairs, refusedeligible offers of marriage (which was pretty often), the favoreddomestic in the kitchen was always informed of it, and asked,with the sweetest humility, if he approved of the proceeding.

Not to dwell on this anomalous period of my existence, let me saybriefly that my new position with my wife was of the greatestadvantage in enabling me to direct in secret the profitable usesto which her little fortune was put.

We began in this way with an excellent speculation incattle--buying them for shillings and selling them for pounds.With the profits thus obtained, we next tried our hands athouses--first buying in a small way, then boldly building, andletting again and selling to great advantage. While thesespeculations were in progress, my behavior in my wife's servicewas so exemplary, and she gave me so excellent a character whenthe usual official inquiries were instituted, that I soon got thenext privilege accorded to persons in my situation--aticket-of-leave. By the time this had been again exchanged for aconditional pardon (which allowed me to go about where I pleasedin Australia, and to trade in my own name like any unconvictedmerchant) our house-property had increased enormously, our landhad been sold for public buildings, and we had shares in thefamous Emancipist's Bank, which produced quite a little income ofthemselves.

There was now no need to keep the mask on any longer.

I went through the superfluous ceremony of a second marriage withAlicia; took stores in the city; built a villa in the country;and here I am at this present moment of writing, a convictaristocrat--a prosperous, wealthy, highly respectable mercantileman, with two years of my sentence of transportation still toexpire. I have a barouche and two bay horses, a coachman and pagein neat liveries, three charming children, and a Frenchgoverness, a boudoir and lady's-maid for my wife. She is ashandsome as ever, but getting a little fat. So am I, as a worthyfriend remarked when I recently appeared holding the plate, atour last charity sermon.

What would my surviving relatives and associates in England say,if they could see me now? I have heard of them at different timesand through various channels. Lady Malkinshaw, after living tothe verge of a hundred, and surviving all sorts of accidents,died quietly one afternoon, in her chair, with an empty dishbefore her, and without giving the slightest notice to anybody.Mr. Batterbury, having sacrificed so much to his wife'sreversion, profited nothing by its falling in at last. Hisquarrels with my amiable sister--which took their rise from hisinterested charities toward me--ended in producing a separation.And, far from saving anything by Annabella's inheritance of herpin-money, he had a positive loss to put up with, in the shape ofsome hundreds extracted yearly from his income, as alimony to hisuncongenial wife. He is said to make use of shocking languagewhenever my name is mentioned, and to wish that he had beencarried off by the yellow fever before he ever set eyes on theSoftly family.

My father has retired from practice. He and my mother have goneto live in the country, near the mansion of the only marquis withwhom my father was actually and personally acquainted in hisprofessional days. The marquis asks him to dinner once a year,and leaves a card for my mother before he returns to town for theseason. A portrait of Lady Malkinshaw hangs in the dining-room.In this way, my parents are ending their days contentedly. I canhonestly say that I am glad to hear it.

Doctor Dulcifer, when I last heard of him, was editing anewspaper in America. Old File, who shared his flight, stillshares his fortunes, being publisher of his newspaper. Young Fileresumed coining operations in London; and, having braved his fatea second time, threaded his way, in due course, up to the stepsof the scaffold. Screw carries on the profitable trade ofinformer, in London. The dismal disappearance of Mill I havealready recorded.

So much on the subject of my relatives and associates. On thesubject of myself, I might still write on at considerable length.But while the libelous title of "A ROGUE'S LIFE" stares me in theface at the top of the page, how can I, as a rich and reputableman, be expected to communicate any further autobiographicalparticulars, in this place, to a discerning public of readers?No, no, my friends! I am no longer interesting--I am onlyrespectable like yourselves. It is time to say "Good-by."