TALES OF TO – DAY. A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES, BY GEORGE R. SIMS,

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 378, 19 June 1889, Page 6

TALES OF TO - DAY. A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES, BY GEORGE R. SIMS,

Author of ' Rogues and Vagabonds/ 'Throe Brass Balls? 'Sow the Poor Live,' *The Lights o' London,' &c, &c.

XII. THE PRISON BABY. CHAPTER I. •TuEXyou think you can arrange it for me? 4 Yes. I shall have to get permission from the Home Office, bub I can do bhar, and then if you like I will take you over myself. You'll see a greub deal more.' ♦Thanks; that will be splendid. When aan you manage it ?' ' Let me see. To-morrow's Monday. Suppose we say Friday afternoon, will that suit you ?' •Capitally.' 'Then that's an appointment. You'd better call for me at my house and we'll drive to the prison together.' ' A thousand thanks. Good-day.' 'Good-day.' The speakers were Mr Din more Smith, the weil-known dramatist, and Captain Danvers, one of Her Majesty's Inspectors of Prisons. Mr Dinmore Smith was writing a drama for production at a West End Theatre, and one of the principal scenes was the interior of a female prison. The heroine, who was of course, innocent, as all heroines are in modern melodramas, was to be found guilty of a crime on circumstantial evidence and sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. In the prison her husband was to visit her, and in a pathetic scene the audience was to be moved to tears ; these tears were to be chased away by laughter at the antics of another female convict, who was eventually to assist the heroine in escaping from the gaol. In order to put the scene on the stage with that correctness of detail which" is a feature of most modern theatrical, productions, it was necessary that theanthorshouid have an -opportunity of studying his subject from personal observation. He must obtain access co a female prison, and remain there sufficiently long to take note of the rules and regulations of the establishment and the manners and customs of the inhabitants. Bub for a stranger — especially a male stranger, and one actuated by a motive purely personal to himself — to obtain access to a female prison, is no easy task. Male visitors are rigidly excluded, except in the case of very distinguished people indeed. Male relatives may visit the female prisoner, on visiting days,~but they are only allowed jusc inside the gates where the visiting room is situated. The interior of the building can only be penetrated on the production of the Home Secretai*y's ' Open Sesame,' and that, as I have said, is only jfranted in very special cases. Mr Dinmore Smith was at his wit's end as to how to obtain the desired permission He didn't know any members of Parliament, or high officials, and was given to understand that his plea that he wanted to see the prison to make a stage scene of it *rould hardly be considered by the authorities as a good and sufficient excuse for breaking through their very wholesome rule. Captain Danvers was one of Her Majesty's Inspectors. Mr Dinmore Smith had met the Captain ab one or two literary dinner parties, and they had become friendly over the post-prandial cigars and coffee. But it was only at the last moment, and when he was in despair, that Mr Smith remembered the Captain's position, and would be able to do all that was possible for him. He called in the Captain, 3tated his case frankly, and the conversation with which the reader is already familiar was the result. The difficulty was overcome, the dramatist would be able to master the details and get his local colouring under the personal guidance of one of the high { officials. On the following Friday, Mr Dinmore Smith, with his note book in his pocket, was at the Captain's house at the appointed hour, and about twenty minutes later the little door in the great gates of Prison opened for them and they stepped through, while the officer at the gate saluted them respectfully. Before Her Majesty's Inspector, bolts and bare flew asunder — great doors flew open and male and female officials hurried to do his bidding and to attend his triumphal progress. Air Dinmore Smith played moon to the Captain's sun. He hhone with a borrowed light, but still he shone. He was an important personage inside that prison, becaufee he was the companion of one of Her Majesty's Inspectors. The rigour of the ordinary routine which is observed in conducting a visitor over the prison was relaxed, and the officers were most anxious that the Captain should be pleased. For all they knew he was there on official business, making an official inspection. But still the presence of a stranger made itself felt. The prisoners knew who the Inspector was — the old ones had seen him before, and the new ones knew him by the manner in which he was received. When the inspector comes along the prisoners must desist from any work they are doing, and stand at attention that he may look ' at them. The officer in charge instantly gives the order, and all the women stand erect, and face towards the important official. But in the corridors where a few female convicts were at work. Mr Dinmore Smith, having got a little ahead, noticed that as he came along the women left their work and stood up with their faces turned to the wall till be had passed. This was in pursuance of a humane rule in prison discipline which is intended to give the prisoners an opportunity of concealing their features from the ordinary visitor, in order that no future recognition may take place. ' A woman having purged her offence and being liberated does not always want to run the risk of being recognised as a gaol bird when she endeavours to atone for the past by earning an honest living. Mr Dinmore Smith went into the cells and. questioned the matron and the officials, gathered his facts and made his libble notes. He was conducted to the ' dark ' — the gloomy cell in which refractory prisoners are placed — he saw the infirmary, and, saddest sight of all, the nursery, the room in which the children born in the prison pass their early days. The dramatist stood for some little time in the prison nursery and gazed at the children. A vague idea was in his mind, endeavouring to take definite shape. He felt that there was a drama, a romance, a tragedy, perhaps, being enacted before his ©yes, and that this was the prologue. Born in prison ! "What a terrible thing for an innocent boy or girl to realise in after life — ' I was born in gaol. 5 Mr Smith began to formulate his idea. He selected a beautiful little girl baby for his little heroine. She was to leave the prison t and grow up amid far different surrounding?. She was never to know tfcafc she was a prison child — born

ofafelon mother in the gaol lying-in waid, 4 until —until when? He couldn't quite make up his mind whether ib'was to be her marriage morning or not, and before he had arrived at any definite conclusion he \v,as aroused from his reverie by the voice of Her Majesty's Inspector. * Capital place for the children, isn't it ?' said the Captain. 'Yes; very nice, very nice indeed,'replied Mr Smith, hesitatingly ; then seeing the principal matron behind the Captain, he ventured to improve the occasion with a professional view to the future. * What a sweet little baby girl that is,' he said, pointing to the child which had attracted his attention. 'Is her mother a very bad woman ?' •No,' replied the matron ; 'on the contrary, she is one of our best prisoners.' ' Poor creature ! What is she here for ?' 'It was rather a celebrated case,' replied the matron. 'You remember a case in which a man chloroformed and robbed a jeweller's! assistant who bad brought some diamonds to his apartments to show him?' ' Yes, I remember it well.' I This poor girl, whose baby Mia l ) is, was the man's accomplice. She assisted in the plot, and kept the assistant in conversation while the trick was played, and after the robbery had been effected she attempted to pawn somu ot the jewels. The evidence against her at the trial was very strong, and though there was a certain amount of sympathy for her, she was convicted.' ' She wasn't his wife, of course ?' ' No, that might have been something in her favour. 1 ' She was living with the man, then? 1 'I suppose so. It was generally understood so. The child was born after s>he had been here about six months.' * Poor creature ! Does she say anything abouoit?' ' No ; she is very nice and very gentle, and we have no trouble with her, but she is very uncommunicative.' ' I should like to see her. I remember the case, though 1 was out of England at 'the time. The man was much older than the woman, was he not ?' ' Yes, he was about fifty, and sho couldn't havo been more than twenty-three.' I 1 should like to see her if I might.' The matron shook her head. 'I'm sorry I can't oblige you,' she said, • but the poor woman is very unwell. We had to send her into the infirmary last weok, and it wouldn't do for me to take a stranger in there. We have two very bad cases here just at present.' Mr Dinmore Smith visited the other parts of the prison, several cells were opened for him, and the occupants came to the threshold and stood there silent and motionless. It is the prison rule that on the door being opened, the prisoner shall at once rise and come to the front, and the movement was executed so mechanically that it reminded Mr Smith of the Swiss clocks, in which, as the hour strikes, the Swiss girl comes out of a door, stands for a moment, and then retires with a ierk. The prisoners comprised all sorts and conditions of women, from the young girl, in all the strength and vigour of early youth, to the old grey-haired hag, bent and feeble and puckered with age. Some few of the faces weije fair and comely to look upon, but in mosc instances vice and crime had left their mark upon the features and if the soul of goodness was there at all, it was far too deeply hidden to leave any outward and visible sign of its presence. Mr Smith saw all that he wanted to see, made a rapid little sketch of the scene that he thought would be the best for bis purpose, put a leading question or two to the matron in order to get his * probabilities ' all right, and then thanking her for her courtesy, left the building with the Captain, He had quite a feeling of relief when he was outside tbe gloomy wall and breathing the free air again, and he said so. The whole scene had saddened and depressed him, and he hadn't shaken the feeling off when he bade the Captain good-bye and made his way back to his chambers to vvrite out his notes and re-read his play to nee how far the situation he had worked out was in accordance vith what could happen in a properly-conducted prison. But somehow or other he found it impossible to fix his attention on his play. His thoughts kept wandering back to the pretty little girl in the prison nursery, and the young convict mother he had been unable to see. He remembered something of the case. He had been in Italy. *at the time it occurred, and he had only seen the first accounts of it. Ho had missed the English newspapers in travelling, and only heard from tbe conversation of the English he met in trains and at hotels, that the man and the woman had both been convicted. 'I'll read that case up,' he said to himself. *It will bo awfully interesting now. j I'll find the date of the trial to morrow, and get a file of the ''Daily Telegraph" somewhere. Poor girl, I suppose she was guilty. 1 wonder if the man troubles himself about her. Fancy loving a woman and knowing that she's in prison, and that her baby is to be born there. It's awful. It makes one shudder to think of it. Ah, me ! the dramas that the playwrights invent for the boards are nothing to the dramas that are played out day after day upon the stage of life. I'll read that case to-morrow somewhere. I shan't do a stroke of work till I've gob ifc off my mind.' Mr Smith threw his MSS. back into a drawer and lit a pipe, and leant back in his easy chair and watched the smoke curling , up to the ceiling. He was still thinking of the young convi mother and her ba^ ys^ r^ m prison. Mr Smith was saved the trouble of looking for tbe date of the trial. He remembered that a friend of his — a brother dramatist, with whom he occasionally collaborated — was in the habit of cutting out murders and ' good ' trials, and sticking them in a scrap book for professional purposes. To this friend he repaired onthe morrow, and soon found what he wanted. Borrowing the book which contained the report of the trial, he took it back with him to his chambers to read it at his leisure. The story was a simple one, but the cool ingenuity with which the crime had been carried out had made it a remarkable case. On the morning of the 2nd of September, 188 — , a gentleman had called upon Messrs Silverton and Co., jewellers, of New Bondstreet, and had requested to see some diamond rings and a diamond locket. After examining the articles that were submitted to him, he selected a ring and a locket and then asked to see a diamond tiara. Two or three were shown him, and he was about to fix upon one of them when he hesitated. * I should like my wife to see them herself,' he exclaimed : ' she might not like my selection. 5 * We shall be very happy to show them to the lady if she calls,' said the manager. v *Of course, but it's rather awkward ; my wife is confined to the house with a bad cold and must not come out, and to-morrow is her birthday. I want to> make her a present of these things. Would it be troubling you too much to let one of your assistants bring a few rings and lockets and the tiara you have shown me to my house this afternoon ?' The shopman hesitated. ' Where do you live, sir ?'

The gentleman gave an address in one of the, fashionable streets in Piccadilly, and after consulting with the manager, the shopman informed the customer that the jewellery would be brought round that afternoon for the lady's inspection, it beine understood that whatever was solectod would be paid for in Bank notes there and' then. The gentleman, who gave his name as Captain Garth, wroto down the address, and left the shop. About four o'clock in the afternoon a young man called at the address given, with the jewellery. He was shown upstairs to the first floor into an elegantlyfurnished sitting-room. After waiting a moment the door opened, and Captain Garth came in. 1 My wife will bo hore in a moment,' he said. ' Have you biought all tho things I looked at?' ' Yes, sir,' said the shopman, ' all of them.' And he drew a parcel from his pocket and commenced to open it. ' While he was doing so a young lady came in. 'These are the things I was telling you about, my dear,' said the Captain. The young lady picked up one of the tiaras and took it towards the window, to get the light on the stones. The jeweller's assistantfollowed her, turning his back to the Captain. In a moment he was seized from behind, and a handkorehief or pad was pressed to liis nose and mouth. He knew at once that it was saturated with chloroform. He made a struggle to get free and cry out, but he was held too firmly, and gradually lie became helpless, and presentlyall consciousness of what was going on left him. When he came to himself he was fitting in an arm-chair. As soon as. he recovered sufficiently to remember what had happened, he staggered up and looked about. The Captain and the young lady were gone, and so were the jewels. He opened the doov and called loudly for help. The servant came running up, and he cried out that he had been robbed, and asked wildly where the man and woman atl gone to. ' I don't know,' said the girl, ' ain't they in the other room T She went into the other room and found it empty. ' They must have gone out when I heard the door slam,' she said. 'I thought it was you. 5 The young man, without stopping to make any further inquiry, staggered out into the street. He was ttill slightly under the influence of chloroform, and told his story to the first policeman he met. The policeman returned with him to tho house, but naturally the fugitives were not discovered inside it. In reply to inquiries it was ascertained that Captain and Mrs Garth had taken furnished apartments in the house, paying the rent in advance. They had taken the sitting-room and two bedrooms, saying their luggage was coming on in the afternoon from the Langham Hotel. They had taken possession that morning, and had given themselves out as Americans on a short visit to England. The assistant at once saw- that his firm had been the victim of a cleverly-planned robbery, and he hurried back to the shop to inform the proprietor of his adventure. A fortnight afterwards a woman answering the description of Mrs Garth, was seen going into a pawnbroker's shop. She tried to pledge a diamond ring. The detective, who had followed her, made a sign to the pawnbroker, which he understood, and tho money asked was advanced. T^The young woman left the shop, and the detective followed her. He believed that having got the money she would take it to the man, and he was right. A man was waiting round a corner some little distance away. He did not look like Captain Garth, because that worthy had a beard, while this man was clean shaven ; but the detective had seen quite enough, and with the aid of the policeman on the beat, the man and the woman were arrested and taken in a cab to the police station. Then the jeweller's assistant who had been at once sent for, immediately identified them as the lady and gentleman who had been in the room when he was chloroformed. Two more rings were found on the woman, but nothing was found on the man, and both of them obstinately refused to say where they lived. The detective then saw for the first time that he had been in too great a huriy. 'He should have followed them to their residence and he would have probably discovered more of the stolen property. Before the trial, however, in consequence . of the publicity given to the case, a woman j came forward and stated that her gentleman lodger, who had "One out on the day of the arrest, had never returned. Some prisoners were paraded and she picked the Captain out as her missing lodger — of the young lady she knew nothing. Captain Garth, or Mr Jones as he called himself to her, bad lived in the apartments alone and no lady had visited him. All attempts to discover the young woman's lodgings failed utterly, and at the Captain's apartments nothing was discovered, but a clue being iollowed up, tho male prisoner was eventually identified as a man who had been in trouble before for swindling, and had been in the hands of the prison authorities twice under different names. At the trial the evidence for the prosecution wa& simple and direct. The prisoners [ made no defence. The only thing the ! female prisoner did was to state that she | was not Captain Garth's wife. j Both were found guilty on the evidence ' and sentenced to a long term of imprisonment, and the case having been a. nine days wonder, was gradually forgotten. Mr Dinmoie Smith read and re-read the case, and two points struck him in particular, One waB that the female prisoner, ' who had been charged in the name of Annie Garth, had refused to say what her correct name was, but had gone out of her way to declare that she was not the male prisoner's wife. And the other was that at the time of the arrest she and the man were not living at the same address. This might have been only a matter of precaution. Had they occupied the same lodging thsy might have been more readily suspected by people who had read of the , robbery. But Mr Smith remembered that at the house where the robbery was committed they had taken two bedrooms ; and although the man had called the woman his wife, both there and at the jeweller's, there was the woman's distinct denial of the relationship at a time when that relationship might have weighed with the jury in considering her share in the crime. * If she was not his wife, what was she ?* said Mr Smith to himgelf. Then he remembered the prison baby ; and that made him still further wonder that the girl should have gone out of her way to repudiate ths relationship. The more Mr Smith thought the case over, the more convinced he became that there must have been some strong motives for the woman's disclaimer. The prison baby had caused him to be interested in the mother, and the matron's

story of her gentleness and good behaviour in prison had increased that interest. < He couldn't help feeling that, for the baby's sake, he should like , to have proved the mother's innocence. What a tine thing it wouid haye been for him if he could have clone so, and have wribten letters to the newspaper, showing his skill as an amateur detective. There was a great dramatist once who fought the battle of a woman, condemned to death for murder, and had the satisfaction of seeing her a free woman. There was a lady novelist still living who saved a girl condemned to death for the murder of her infant, oh the very morning fixed for her execution. j Mr Smith, having mastered the details of the case, had no hope of proving Annie Garth's innocence, but he felt that he should like to fathom her motive in denying that she was legally married to her accomplice. Site might not have been ovon his mistress. It was almost clear that they had not lived together aft. man and wife, from the facts to which I have previously alluded.' Before he put the case from his mind and resumed his work he determined that this ao least he would do. He would try and find out if possible wHat was tho relationship in which this man and woman stood to each other at the time of the robbery. Something might come of such a discovery after all. Perhaps something which would give a different aspect to the woman's share in the transaction. The next day Mr Smith wrote to his friend Captain JDanvers at the Home Office. Would the Captain help him to ascertain a few particulars concerning the man who had cemmitted the jewel robbery — would it be possible to obtain an interview with him in prison, etc.? Having posted his letter, Mr Smith went to call upon his married sister, Mrs Winslow, and being full of his recent prison experiences he told her all about Annie Garth and the prison baby. Mrs Winslow was soon interested in her brother's narrative. She had lo?t her own little baby, a pretty little girl of three, and she felb a deep sympathy with the young mother whose child had been born in a prison. • Poor creaturo 1' she exclaimed, c how terribly sad If she is a gentle, refined woman, as you say, it -must be a terrible grief to her. Yet,' she add9d, with a sigh, ' she can see her baby sometimes. She has it still.' 1 1 suppose so,'said her brother ; ' but the poor woman is dangerously ill. What an awful thing for her to think that she may die there, die and leave her little one under such terrible circumstances.' 1 Don't talk about it,' "said Mrs Winslow, with a shudder. Mr Smith stayed some time and then he rose to go. As he was leaving Mrs Winslow stopped him. 1 John,' she said, ' I should like to know more about that poor woman, and her baby. I— I — daresay you'll think me very foolish,' but do you know, if I might, 1 should like to get that baby out of the prison, and take care of it till the mother is tree again.' ' Goorl gracious, what a strange idea !' ' It is strange, I daresay, but you don't know how I miss my own baby. I think it would do me good to have something that would keep me from brooding over my loss. You might ask if such a thing could be.' Mr Smith promised thao he would ask the question, but he did it more to satisfy his sister than with tiny idea of seriously considering her proposition. As he walked hpnie he fell into a brooding fib himself. He began to think over his own great sorrow — the sorrow, which had almost crushed him to the' earth: Three years previously he had married a girl he had first mot on the stage* a -good, amiable, pretty girl, who had played a small part in one of his pieces. They had been together haptiy for two short months, and then she had left him — left him with a cruel letter, ot what he had thought was a cruel letter, saying that her marriage had been a mistaken and that she had gone away, and that he was free to marry a woman more w6rbhy of his. love. He ascertained that she had left his house in his absence -in the country with a man who had visited her there on several occasious unknown to him. Maddened with jealousy and rage, he had at once commenced proceedings for divorce, and on the wife's written confession and the evidence of bho servantsj'Vh'e ti&d-obbained what ho sought — the making no attempt to defend the case! l After the lapse of sixmonths the d^&ree was made absolute, and he was a free man. Free — in the'eyetfof fchelaw, but his heart Was not free, for in spite of all that had happened he had loved his young wife with a love that was too deep for even the wrong ho had suffered to efface it. ' How diffeient things might have been,' he siehedT ' Heigho, what's the use of thinking? We all have our tioubles in this world. That's what we are born for. I'll forget my own and think of somebody else's. . „;, So he began ,to think of Annie Garth again, and when he got home he iound a letter from Captain Danvers, saying that he would beat the club thab evening and they would talk the matter ov6r. 1 Right,' suid the dramatist ; ' I daresay he'll bo able to get me an interview with the man, bub I wonder what he'll say when I tell him that my bister wants to adopt that prison baby.' ( To be continued. )