His defence was that he intended to return the animal, but he utterly failed to establish this satisfactorily. He was found guilty. But as it was his first offence, or, more properly speaking, the first time he had been convicted, he was sentenced to six months only. “It’s a lottery, quite a lottery,” observed the gipsy to Mr. Green. “I never thought you would get more than me.” “I’ve been very unfortunate,” returned his youthful companion. “It’s those bobbies as did it. It warn’t of no manner of use my coming the good boy business while they were in court. But I say, old man, do you know your friend is dead?” “What friend do yer mean?” inquired the gipsy. “I didn’t know as I had any.” “Why him as interrupted you in the lock-up.” “Dead――is he? Poor chap.” It was true enough. Two days before the assizes commenced the ill-fated man breathed his last. He was born and bred a gentleman, was of an ancient and honourable family, but in early life was afflicted with a fatal propensity for gambling and betting. All the years of his life were wasted, his moral principles were undermined. He was, of course, a prey to sharpers. He became reckless, lost his status in society, and ultimately, in the dire straits in which he found himself, had recourse to forgery. His family, to save his reputation, paid the forged bills. Nevertheless, the man could not turn aside from his evil course. He had got into a vortex, a sort of maelstrôm, from which he could not release himself. His end we have already chronicled. It is not easy to estimate the pernicious effects of betting in this country. It affects all classes, impoverishes the wealthy, makes criminals of the middle and lower classes of the community, fills our gaols, and is, in point of fact, the ruin of scores of thousands of persons, who, but for this fatal propensity, would, in all probability, have continued to be respectable and honourable members of society. Nothing tends to demoralise the youth of this country compared to the practice of betting. It is quite time the Legislature should take active measures to suppress, as far as lies in their power, this widespread evil. CHAPTER XIX. PEACE’S PROVINCIAL TOUR――THE “OLD CARVED LION.” We now arrive at another phase in the history of the criminal whose career we are shadowing forth. Peace, after his release, returned to his native town, and resided for many months with his mother. To all appearance he was a good citizen, and an industrious man enough, who managed to earn sufficient for his own requirements. It was not known in Sheffield that he had “been in trouble.” Those who were interested in his welfare were in great hopes that he would turn from dishonest courses and taste the sweets of honest industry.