The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

The count disposed of his jewel for its full value, and by his dexterity raised £1,000. This sum he paid down to Heartfree at the end of the week, and promised him the rest within a month. Heartfree did not in the least scruple giving him credit, but as he had in reality procured those jewels of another, his own little stock not being able to furnish anything so valuable. The count, in addition to the £1,000 in gold, gave him his note for £2,800 more.

As soon as Heartfree was departed, Wild came in and received the casket from the count, and an appointment was made to meet the next morning to come to a division of its contents.

Two gentlemen of resolution, in the meantime, attacked Heartfree on his way home, according to Wild's orders, and spoiled the enemy of the whole sum he had received from the count. According to agreement, Wild, who had made haste to overtake the conquerors, took nine-tenths of the booty, but was himself robbed of this £900 before nightfall.

As for the casket, when he opened it, the stones were but paste. For the sagacious count had conveyed the jewels into his own pocket, and in their stead had placed artificial stones. On Wild's departure the count hastened out of London, and was well on his way to Dover when Wild knocked at his door.

Heartfree, wounded and robbed, had only the count's note left, and this was returned to him as worthless, inquiries having proved that the count had run away. So confused was poor Heartfree at this that his creditor for the jewels was frightened, and at once had him arrested for the debt.

Heartfree applied in vain for money to numerous customers who were indebted to him; they all replied with various excuses, and the unhappy wretch was soon taken to Newgate. He had been inclined to blame Wild for his misfortunes, but our hero boldly attacked him for giving credit to the count, and this degree of impudence convinced both Heartfree and his wife of Wild's innocence, the more so as the latter promised to procure bail for his friend. In this he was unsuccessful, and it was long before Heartfree was released and restored to happiness.

IV.--The Highest Pinnacle of Greatness

Wild was a living instance that human greatness and happiness are not always inseparable. He was under a continual alarm of frights and fears and jealousies, and was thoroughly convinced there was not a single man amongst his own gang who would not, for the value of five shillings, bring him to the gallows.

A clause in an act of parliament procured by a learned judge entrapped Wild. Hitherto he had always employed less gifted men to carry out his plans. Now, by this law it was made capital in a prig to steal with the hands of other people, and it was impossible for our hero to avoid the destruction so plainly calculated for his greatness.

Wild, having received from some dutiful members of his gang a valuable piece of goods, did, for a consideration, re-convey it to the right owner, for which fact, being ungratefully informed against by the said owner, he was surprised in his own house, and, being overpowered by numbers, was hurried before a magistrate, and by him committed to Newgate.

When the day of his trial arrived, our hero was, notwithstanding his utmost caution and prudence, convicted and sentenced to be hanged by the neck. He now suspected that the malice of his enemies would overpower him, and therefore betook himself to that true support of greatness in affliction--a bottle, by means of which he was enabled to curse, swear, and bully, and brave his fate. Other comfort, indeed, he had not much, for not a single friend ever came near him.

From the time our hero gave over all hopes of life, his conduct was truly great and admirable. Instead of showing any marks of contrition or dejection, he rather infused more confidence and assurance into his looks. He spent most of his hours in drinking with acquaintances, and with the good chaplain; and being asked whether he was afraid to die, he answered, "It's only a dance without music. A man can die but once. Zounds! Who's afraid?"

At length the morning came which Fortune had resolutely ordained for the consummation of our hero's greatness; he had himself, indeed, modestly declined the public honour she intended him, and had taken a quantity of laudanum in order to retire quietly off the stage. But it is vain to struggle against the decrees of fortune, and the laudanum proved insufficient to stop his breath.

At the usual hour he was acquainted that the cart was ready, and his fetters having been knocked off in a solemn and ceremonious manner, after drinking a bumper of brandy, he ascended the cart, where he was no sooner seated than he received the acclamations of the multitude, who were highly ravished with his greatness.

The cart now moved slowly on, preceded by a troop of Horse Guards, bearing javelins in their hands, through the streets lined with crowds all admiring the great behaviour of our hero, who rode on, sometimes sighing, sometimes swearing, sometimes singing or whistling, as his humour varied.

When he came to the tree of glory, he was welcomed with an universal shout of the people; but there were not wanting some who maligned this completion of glory, now about to be fulfilled by our hero, and endeavoured to prevent it by knocking him on the head as he stood under the tree, while the chaplain was performing his last office.