CHAPTER IX,

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 18, 15 January 1881, Page 175

CHAPTER IX,

The various requests put forward by Cooke must have been acceded to, for, on the following day, this paragraph appeared in the Telegraph : "Mr. Brownpath, who was yesterday reported in our columns as being implicated in the murder in St. John's Wood, and against whom a warrant was issued, was almost immediately released, after an examination which disposed of every charge brought against him. From private information which we have received, it would, moreover, appear that the law has made up its mind on this subject, and the real culprit, who is known to have absconded to a foreign country, will not be long before he is discovered, and delivered up, extradition being an easy matter in cases of murder. Our readers may rest assured that we shall keep them informed of all the intelligence which may reach us so long as it is not of a nature to hamper the action of justice." The good faith of this paragraph was entirely believed in, and the opposition journals, did not neglect such a golden opportunity of reading the government a lesson. They expressed an immense amount of pity for the lot of Brownpath, and held him up as the wretched victim of another judicial mistake. In London the most trivial occurrences sometimes assume gigantic proportions. An event is exaggerated to-day, because to-morrow it may no longer be food for gossip. The Daily Neion profited by the circumstance to fulminate a sensational article, which created quite a stir. Amongst our mass of documents relating to this case we came across this article, and we reproduce it entire — " So, a citizen is spending his evening quietly at home, his feet on the fender, thinking of what has happened to-day or will happen tomorrow, when all of a sudden there is a loud knocking at his door, his domicile is invaded, his desk forced open, his most private papers read, and his inner life broken into. A gentleman in uniform, aided by certain sinister satellites, is the presiding genius of this execution. And if the citizen, whose dwelling is thus violated, inquires the reason of all this harshness, he is told that it in no concern of his, that there is no account to be rendered to him, and that he can talk later on to the proper authorities. If he exclaims against this, if ni» blood gets up, and if, strong in his innocence, he dares to resist the gentleman in uniform, the others throw themselves upon him, hurry him into a cab, and, if necessary, handcuff him. ' To the Jail,' or 'to Newgate,' they say to the driver, and very soon the prisoner finds himself mad with rage and grief, in a hideous room. "There he is searched, his pockets emptied, his surname and Christian name taken down, not a word of explanation is vouchsafed to him, and at last he is led to a dungeon, and the door closes upon him. He is in solitary confinement? Solitary confinement! a terrible word, and yet more terrible thing, which means a leaden coffin for the living ! An instrument of torture to enfeeble the brain and crush the soul, as the thumbscrew and the iron boot were wont to crush the body ! ' ' There he remains for a whole day, perhaps two, without a word. Forty-eight hours — a century ! A century, during which he has not seen a living person — he asks himself if it is all I a dream, of if, in a raving fever, he has been sent to an hospital. " At length he hears a step — some one approaches — policemen escort him — he traverses gloomy passages, ascends winding staircases, and finds himself at last before the magistrate. " 'You are accused,' somebody says to him, 'of having assassinated Mr. H .' ♦ ' ' Mr. H ? I. ? When ? ' " ' Eight days ago.' "'mere?' "'ln St. John's Wood.' " ' But eight days ago I was at Brighton with my family. All the world can vouch for it. I had only just returned when I was arrested by your order.' '"How is this? An alibi? Can you prove it? Why did you not say so before? j "'Before? To whom ? Who has asked me a single question? I have been imprisoned, and that is all.' | " ' If , sir, you are speaking the truth, there will be no delay in restoring to you your ' liberty.' "'ln doing that you will be merely giving me my due. But what else will you give me ? ' " ' I do not understand you.' "'Yes, who is to compensate me for the tortures I have just undergone, for the discredit which will cling to me, fdr the bargains I was about to make which I have now lost ? And my children, who have seen their father dragged to prison; and my aged mother, whom the least excitement might kill, and who no doubt is dead by this time ? What do you think of all that ? Do you imagine you have cried quits with me by saying — ' We were mistaken, you can go home ? ' " ' You were thought guilty, sir ; there were S roofs against you, and the authorities have one their duty.' " 'No, sir, instead of issuing a warrant,* you should have confined yourself to a summons.' " 'And if, being guilty, and afraid of the consequences of your guilt, you attempted to fly ? ' "'Then you could have arrested me, and you would have had justice on your side. It is too often forgotten in England that an accused person is not necessarily guilty, that some consideration is due to him, and that, instead of dragging him before the magistrate, the magistrate should question him at liis own house, and not arrest him until after the examination, and then only if just grounds for such a course are shown.' " 'That is often done.' " 'And it should always be done.' " All these articles were nuts to Cooke. "Brownpath," said he to himself, "cannot

imagine that he is still an object of suspicion, and under supervision. He will forget his reserve, he will make a mistake, and I shall have him in my clutches." And the new agent of police smiled, smacked his lips and rubbed his hands.