The case was of such a trivial character that it was disposed of immediately. The accused, upon his own confession, was charged with abstracting the sum of twenty pounds, the property of his employer. The accused’s solicitor spoke very earnestly as to the excellent character the prisoner had always borne; he had been seven years in the prosecutor’s employ; and he insisted upon the fact that the theft would not have been brought to light had not the accused himself restored the money and confessed his action. To this the prisoner’s employer added an earnest request that the unfortunate young man be dealt with leniently, as he had given every satisfaction to the house of Crumpett and Hawker, and they had no desire whatever to press the case. “William Jordan,” said the magistrate, in the tone of a somewhat petulant male parent, “having regard to the fact that your employer, whose goodness of heart and philanthropy of disposition are well known, has himself interceded for you, and having regard also to the fact that since the commission of your act you appear to have done all in your power to repair it, I should be inclined to feel that the ends of justice would be met by a nominal sentence upon you. But unfortunately I learn that this is not the first occasion upon which you have been before this court; and as you have already enjoyed what I may say I am inclined to consider the questionable philanthropy of the First Offenders’ Act, upon a charge similar to this present, although upon the former occasion it involved theft from the person, I now feel that I have no alternative but to deal with you in a salutary manner. William Jordan, you must go to hard labour for six months.” The young man stood erectly to receive this sentence. About his lips was a smile which was proud, humble, yet almost happy. XXXV After the prisoner had bowed with a self-possession and an ample courtesy to the presiding magistrate, and to his late employer--which both gentlemen thought in the circumstances were very remarkable--and he had stepped down from the dock, Mr. Octavius Crumpett said to his acquaintance and fellow-clubman, Mr. Ashmole Pursglove, “Pursglove, this affair has cost me much pain. That man has been in the counting-house of Crumpett and Hawker seven years, and I understand that in all that time his conduct has been exemplary. Yet his career reveals a depth of depravity that is truly shocking. Not one of his companions in the office had suspected it.” “I can only remark, Crumpett,” said Mr. Ashmole Pursglove, “that in my judgment that man has the air and demeanour of a finished criminal. I am afraid there is nothing to be said for a man of that type. Our social system makes no sort of provision for him. If I could have my way he would be detained as a hopeless lunatic. He would not be given back to society again.”