<SPAN name="V3_CIX" id="V3_CIX"></SPAN>
<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
<p>While I was thus endeavouring to occupy and provide for the intermediate
period, till the violence of the pursuit after me might be abated, a new
source of danger opened upon me of which I had no previous suspicion.</p>
<p>Gines, the thief who had been expelled from Captain Raymond's gang, had
fluctuated, during the last years of his life, between the two professions
of a violator of the laws and a retainer to their administration. He had
originally devoted himself to the first; and probably his initiation in the
mysteries of thieving qualified him to be peculiarly expert in the
profession of a thief-taker—a profession he had adopted, not from
choice, but necessity. In this employment his reputation was great, though
perhaps not equal to his merits; for it happens here as in other departments
of human society, that, however the subalterns may furnish wisdom and skill,
the principals exclusively possess the <i>�clat</i>. He was exercising this
art in a very prosperous manner, when it happened, by some accident, that
one or two of his achievements previous to his having shaken off the dregs
of unlicensed depredation were in danger of becoming subjects of public
attention. Having had repeated intimations of this, he thought it prudent to
decamp; and it was during this period of his retreat that he entered into
the ---- gang.</p>
<p>Such was the history of this man antecedently to his being placed in the
situation in which I had first encountered him. At the time of that
encounter he was a veteran of Captain Raymond's gang; for thieves being a
short-lived race, the character of veteran costs the less time in acquiring.
Upon his expulsion from this community he returned once more to his lawful
profession, and by his old comrades was received with congratulation as a
lost sheep. In the vulgar classes of society no length of time is sufficient
to expiate a crime; but among the honourable fraternity of thief-takers it
is a rule never to bring one of their own brethren to a reckoning when it
can with any decency be avoided. They are probably reluctant to fix an
unnecessary stain upon the ermine of their profession. Another rule observed
by those who have passed through the same gradation as Gines had done, and
which was adopted by Gines himself, is always to reserve such as have been
the accomplices of their depredations to the last, and on no account to
assail them without great necessity or powerful temptation. For this reason,
according to Gines's system of tactics, Captain Raymond and his confederates
were, as he would have termed it, safe from his retaliation.</p>
<p>But, though Gines was, in this sense of the term, a man of strict honour,
my case unfortunately did not fall within the laws of honour he
acknowledged. Misfortune had overtaken me, and I was on all sides without
protection or shelter. The persecution to which I was exposed was founded
upon the supposition of my having committed felony to an immense amount. But
in this Gines had had no participation; he was careless whether the
supposition were true or false, and hated me as much as if my innocence had
been established beyond the reach of suspicion.</p>
<p>The blood-hunters who had taken me into custody at ----, related, as
usual among their fraternity, a part of their adventure, and told of the
reason which inclined them to suppose, that the individual who had passed
through their custody, was the very Caleb Williams for whose apprehension a
reward had been offered of a hundred guineas. Gines, whose acuteness was
eminent in the way of his profession, by comparing facts and dates, was
induced to suspect in his own mind, that Caleb Williams was the person he
had hustled and wounded upon ---- forest. Against that person he entertained
the bitterest aversion. I had been the innocent occasion of his being
expelled with disgrace from Captain Raymond's gang; and Gines, as I
afterwards understood, was intimately persuaded that there was no comparison
between the liberal and manly profession of a robber from which I had driven
him, and the sordid and mechanical occupation of a blood-hunter, to which he
was obliged to return. He no sooner received the information I have
mentioned than he vowed revenge. He determined to leave all other objects,
and consecrate every faculty of his mind to the unkennelling me from my
hiding-place. The offered reward, which his vanity made him consider as
assuredly his own, appeared as the complete indemnification of his labour
and expense. Thus I had to encounter the sagacity he possessed in the way of
his profession, whetted and stimulated by a sentiment of vengeance, in a
mind that knew no restraint from conscience or humanity.</p>
<p>When I drew to myself a picture of my situation soon after having fixed
on my present abode, I foolishly thought, as the unhappy are accustomed to
do, that my calamity would admit of no aggravation. The aggravation which,
unknown to me, at this time occurred was the most fearful that any
imagination could have devised. Nothing could have happened more critically
hostile to my future peace, than my fatal encounter with Gines upon ----
forest. By this means, as it now appears, I had fastened upon myself a
second enemy, of that singular and dreadful sort that is determined never to
dismiss its animosity as long as life shall endure. While Falkland was the
hungry lion whose roarings astonished and appalled me, Gines was a noxious
insect, scarcely less formidable and tremendous, that hovered about my
goings, and perpetually menaced me with the poison of his sting.</p>
<p>The first step pursued by him in execution of his project, was to set out
for the sea-port town where I had formerly been apprehended. From thence he
traced me to the banks of the Severn, and from the banks of the Severn to
London. It is scarcely necessary to observe that this is always practicable,
provided the pursuer have motives strong enough to excite him to
perseverance, unless the precautions of the fugitive be, in the highest
degree, both judicious in the conception, and fortunate in the execution.
Gines indeed, in the course of his pursuit, was often obliged to double his
steps; and, like the harrier, whenever he was at a fault, return to the
place where he had last perceived the scent of the animal whose death he had
decreed. He spared neither pains nor time in the gratification of the
passion, which choice had made his ruling one.</p>
<p>Upon my arrival in town he for a moment lost all trace of me, London
being a place in which, on account of the magnitude of its dimensions, it
might well be supposed that an individual could remain hidden and unknown.
But no difficulty could discourage this new adversary. He went from inn to
inn (reasonably supposing that there was no private house to which I could
immediately repair), till he found, by the description he gave, and the
recollections he excited, that I had slept for one night in the borough of
Southwark. But he could get no further information. The people of the inn
had no knowledge what had become of me the next morning.</p>
<p>This however did but render him more eager in the pursuit. The describing
me was now more difficult, on account of the partial change of dress I had
made the second day of my being in town. But Gines at length overcame the
obstacle from that quarter.</p>
<p>Having traced me to my second inn, he was here furnished with a more
copious information. I had been a subject of speculation for the leisure
hours of some of the persons belonging to this inn. An old woman, of a most
curious and loquacious disposition, who lived opposite to it, and who that
morning rose early to her washing, had espied me from her window, by the
light of a large lamp which hung over the inn, as I issued from the gate.
She had but a very imperfect view of me, but she thought there was something
Jewish in my appearance. She was accustomed to hold a conference every
morning with the landlady of the inn, some of the waiters and chambermaids
occasionally assisting at it. In the course of the dialogue of this morning,
she asked some questions about the Jew who had slept there the night before.
No Jew had slept there. The curiosity of the landlady was excited in her
turn. By the time of the morning it could be no other but me. It was very
strange! They compared notes respecting my appearance and dress. No two
things could be more dissimilar. The Jew Christian, upon any dearth of
subjects of intelligence, repeatedly furnished matter for their
discourse.</p>
<p>The information thus afforded to Gines appeared exceedingly material. But
the performance did not for some time keep pace with the promise. He could
not enter every private house into which lodgers were ever admitted, in the
same manner that he had treated the inns. He walked the streets, and
examined with a curious and inquisitive eye the countenance of every Jew
about my stature; but in vain. He repaired to Duke's Place and the
synagogues. It was not here that in reality he could calculate upon finding
me; but he resorted to those means in despair, and as a last hope. He was
more than once upon the point of giving up the pursuit; but he was recalled
to it by an insatiable and restless appetite for revenge.</p>
<p>It was during this perturbed and fluctuating state of his mind, that he
chanced to pay a visit to a brother of his, who was the head-workman of a
printing-office. There was little intercourse between these two persons,
their dispositions and habits of life being extremely dissimilar. The
printer was industrious, sober, inclined to methodism, and of a propensity
to accumulation. He was extremely dissatisfied with the character and
pursuits of his brother, and had made some ineffectual attempts to reclaim
him. But, though they by no means agreed in their habits of thinking, they
sometimes saw each other. Gines loved to boast of as many of his
achievements as he dared venture to mention; and his brother was one more
hearer, in addition to the set of his usual associates. The printer was
amused with the blunt sagacity of remark and novelty of incident that
characterised Gines's conversation. He was secretly pleased, in spite of all
his sober and church-going prejudices, that he was brother to a man of so
much ingenuity and fortitude.</p>
<p>After having listened for some time upon this occasion to the wonderful
stories which Gines, in his rugged way, condescended to tell, the printer
felt an ambition to entertain his brother in his turn. He began to retail
some of my stories of Cartouche and Gusman d'Alfarache. The attention of
Gines was excited. His first emotion was wonder; his second was envy and
aversion. Where did the printer get these stories? This question was
answered. "I will tell you what," said the printer, "we none of us know what
to make of the writer of these articles. He writes poetry, and morality, and
history: I am a printer, and corrector of the press, and may pretend without
vanity to be a tolerably good judge of these matters: he writes them all to
my mind extremely fine; and yet he is no more than a Jew." [To my honest
printer this seemed as strange, as if they had been written by a Cherokee
chieftain at the falls of the Mississippi.]</p>
<p>"A Jew! How do you know? Did you ever see him?"</p>
<p>"No; the matter is always brought to us by a woman. But my master hates
mysteries; he likes to see his authors himself. So he plagues and plagues
the old woman; but he can never get any thing out of her, except that one
day she happened to drop that the young gentleman was a Jew."</p>
<p>A Jew! a young gentleman! a person who did every thing by proxy, and made
a secret of all his motions! Here was abundant matter for the speculations
and suspicions of Gines. He was confirmed in them, without adverting to the
process of his own mind, by the subject of my lucubrations,—men who
died by the hand of the executioner. He said little more to his brother,
except asking, as if casually, what sort of an old woman this was? of what
age she might be? and whether she often brought him materials of this kind?
and soon after took occasion to leave him. It was with vast pleasure that
Gines had listened to this unhoped-for information. Having collected from
his brother sufficient hints relative to the person and appearance of Mrs.
Marney, and understanding that he expected to receive something from me the
next day, Gines took his stand in the street early, that he might not risk
miscarriage by negligence. He waited several hours, but not without success.
Mrs. Marney came; he watched her into the house; and after about twenty
minutes delay, saw her return. He dogged her from street to street; observed
her finally enter the door of a private house; and congratulated himself
upon having at length arrived at the consummation of his labours.</p>
<p>The house she entered was not her own habitation. By a sort of miraculous
accident she had observed Gines following her in the street. As she went
home she saw a woman who had fallen down in a fainting fit. Moved by the
compassion that was ever alive in her, she approached her, in order to
render her assistance. Presently a crowd collected round them. Mrs. Marney,
having done what she was able, once more proceeded homewards. Observing the
crowd round her, the idea of pickpockets occurred to her mind; she put her
hands to her sides, and at the same time looked round upon the populace. She
had left the circle somewhat abruptly; and Gines, who had been obliged to
come nearer, lest he should lose her in the confusion, was at that moment
standing exactly opposite to her. His visage was of the most extraordinary
kind; habit had written the characters of malignant cunning and dauntless
effrontery in every line of his face; and Mrs. Marney, who was neither
philosopher nor physiognomist, was nevertheless struck. This good woman,
like most persons of her notable character, had a peculiar way of going
home, not through the open streets, but by narrow lanes and alleys, with
intricate insertions and sudden turnings. In one of these, by some accident,
she once again caught a glance of her pursuer. This circumstance, together
with the singularity of his appearance, awakened her conjectures. Could he
be following her? It was the middle of the day, and she could have no fears
for herself. But could this circumstance have any reference to me? She
recollected the precautions and secrecy I practised, and had no doubt that I
had reasons for what I did. She recollected that she had always been upon
her guard respecting me; but had she been sufficiently so? She thought that,
if she should be the means of any mischief to me, she should be miserable
for ever. She determined therefore, by way of precaution in case of the
worst, to call at a friend's house, and send me word of what had occurred.
Having instructed her friend, she went out immediately upon a visit to a
person in the exactly opposite direction, and desired her friend to proceed
upon the errand to me, five minutes after she left the house. By this
prudence she completely extricated me from the present danger.</p>
<p>Meantime the intelligence that was brought me by no means ascertained the
greatness of the peril. For any thing I could discover in it the
circumstance might be perfectly innocent, and the fear solely proceed from
the over-caution and kindness of this benevolent and excellent woman. Yet,
such was the misery of my situation, I had no choice. For this menace or no
menace, I was obliged to desert my habitation at a minute's warning, taking
with me nothing but what I could carry in my hand; to see my generous
benefactress no more; to quit my little arrangements and provision; and to
seek once again, in some forlorn retreat, new projects, and, if of that I
could have any rational hope, a new friend. I descended into the street with
a heavy, not an irresolute heart. It was broad day. I said, persons are at
this moment supposed to be roaming the street in search of me: I must not
trust to the chance of their pursuing one direction, and I another. I
traversed half a dozen streets, and then dropped into an obscure house of
entertainment for persons of small expense. In this house I took some
refreshment, passed several hours of active but melancholy thinking, and at
last procured a bed. As soon however as it was dark I went out (for this was
indispensable) to purchase the materials of a new disguise. Having adjusted
it as well as I could during the night, I left this asylum, with the same
precautions that I had employed in former instances.</p>
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