The Boy Soldier; Or, Garibaldi's Young Captain — page 69: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

' THE BOY SOLDIER; OR, GARIBALDI’S YOUNG CAPTAIN. “Was it, though? How singular! why Ihada pupil of that name at Bromley Hall.” ** Did you?” F ; “Yes, he came up to London the same day the riot took place.” “Indeed ! said Gale, with a bright smile, “and where is he now?” “T can’t say ; perhaps in London now, for all Z know.” | _ Gale’s questions were pub so keenly, that old Jonathan began to think it would be wise to have as little to say to him as possible. Gale thanked Jonathan for the interest and trouble he had taken in relation to the murder, and bade him good night. The fitst thing that Gale did, when he left, was to put plain-clothes policemen on Jonathan’s track, to watch him night and day, while he went into the country. . Besides this, he leisurely strolled towards Greer Court, and found that the coroner had held an in- quest on the headless body dragged out of old Flint’s yoom by ‘ Brudder bones,” and the coster- monger, and had returned a verdict of “ wilful murder against some person or persons unknown.” _ Outside the “ Ship Inn,” where the inquest was held, which this night was very extensively patro- nized by hundreds of idlers, he saw a band of negro minstrels playing, and ‘‘ Brudder bones” among them, alljn his glory. Galespoke to him, privately, and told him to keep a bright look out for old Flint, who had suddenly and mysteriously ab- sconded, the same time “tipping” him with a £5 note. On the following afternoon Gale arrived in the village of Bromley. He was dressed like a re- spectable farmer, with false whiskers, riding-whip in hand, top boots, and big stomach. He put up at an obscure inn, at the edge of the village, and strolled towards Bromley Hall. He saw the mistress, and told her he came to visit the establishment, for he had a boy or two he intended to send there, : Madame was all smiles, and Shanks showed him over the Luilding, not failing, of course, to describe the late riot among the scholars, ani to use a great many words in speaking of the great bravery he (Shanks) had displayed throughout all that very trying occasion. With an eye like a hawk, Gale looked at every thing, and everywhere; and discovered, not only that the late Mr. Caspar’s room adjoined Shanks’s, which was on the floor above the mistress’s apart- ments, but also was sorry to leern, that Caspar had vot slept at the Hall on the night Gale named | — - Poor Caspar! things looked very black against him on every side. “T may as well enter my sons’ names on your school list,” said the farmer, with a rich, north- country twang. He did so, and paid the fee, which was a sovereign each, He gave Mr, Shanks a £5 note, which that long- lezged gentleman took to his mistress, who gave a receipt therefore in her husband’s name. The change, three sovereigns, was wrapped up in a piece of tissue paper, just like the articles discovered in Caspar’s trunks ! When Gale perceived the particular twist, so delicate and feminine like, which the tissue paper had, he smiled, and put the money in his pocket without examining it. Mr. Shanks wished the gentleman to open the paper, to see that his change was right. — A er Se -Ch —_——— - = This he did not, but simply felt the three coins in there, and departed to his inn. ‘© Young Caspar never wrappod up those jewels we found in his trunks,” thought Gale. ‘*The mis- tress did it! But why?” . Ayé, that was a question which puzzled the de- tective ; but for the present he contented himself with writing up to London, and informing the inspector all about it. During his survey of the building, he had caught a glimpse of old Giles working in the garden. The old man had eyed him so closely and sus- piciously that Gale made up his mind to have a chat with him, . This was not a very difficult matter to do. He lounged about the Hall gate when dark, and, as luck would have it, met old Giles, who was going to the * Hare ahd Hounds ” to have a mug of beer, a luxury which he could seldom afford to indulge in, But old Giles, from catises we know, was very low spirited. The apparition of the headless man at midnight had shaken his nerves to such a degree that, although he opened his mind to no one, he felt, by some unknown cause, forced to walk over to the “ Hare and Hounds ” to révive his drooping and shaken spirits. A very few words and a pleasant greeting from ~ the farmer-looking detective induced old Giles to go to the “ Jolly Farmer,” where the stranger was staying. ae Giles was on his guard, however, and thought the stranger was too civil to be honest-minded, and not knowidg but what he might be one of Jonathan’s spies, he held his tongue very firmly. Bat there was another person who did not much admire the stranger. This was Mr. Shanks, © When evening came on, he also fwent into the village, and, just as he did so, perceived Giles and the stranger deeply engaged in private, and what seemed to him to be, a whispered confidential chat. This aroused Shanks’s suspicions. He followed to the “Jolly Farmer,” and stood outside the parlour and listened. He did not catch much, but what little he heard made him resolve to inform Jonathan, his master, by by letter of all he imag ned. This was quickly done, and the letter posted to the “Three Cripples,”’ Cripplegate, London, in all haste. After he had posted it he repented having done so, for although Jonathan could understand what he meant, no one else could, perhaps, save some lynx- eyed officers, and this was what he feared. Without saying a word, therefore, he called at the post office late at night, and asked for the letter again. "Bat it had gone, so the postmaster said, It had gone, truly ; but not before Gale had read the direction, and shown his authority for so doing to the surprised village post-master. Shanks bit his lips with vexation, for he had never known the post to go eut so early by several hours. Gale was in the post office when Shanks called, 63 and now /is suspicions were more and more aroused. . Shanks, however, was as cunning as he was ugly. He went to the railway late at night—not to the station, be it remembered—and sat down by a tele- graph post in total darkness. Within an hour a luggage train came up for a few moments, and stopped to water at Bromley, and when it started again at a slow, smail-like pace, as Aly, a et CO michbook C©