CHAPTER II. The Author, being in prison, makes a confidant of a deputy Attorney-General. — The inconvenience of telling a truth which happens to be somewhat incredible.
My wrath gave way when I found myself in
prison; and hearing from the jailer that the grand
jury was then in session, and the prosecuting attorney
actually engaged in framing a bill of endictment
against me, to send up to its members, I began
to think the matter rather serious, and resolved
to end it before it proceeded further.
I had already experienced the ill effects of attempting
to sustain the character of Sheppard Lee
while in the body of another man, and for this
reason was resolved to be more cautious for the future;
but I now perceived I had no better way of
relieving myself of my troubles than by making
the prosecutor, who had been an old friend of
mine, and had always treated me with respect,
acquainted with my transformation; after which, I
had no doubt, he would throw his bill of endictment
into the fire. I sent for him accordingly; but was
obliged to repeat the message before he thought
fit to make his appearance.
“You have perhaps made a mistake, Mr. Higginson,”
said he, as he entered. “You have occasion
for counsel, but none that I can imagine for
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me; for as to my giving you any advice in this unfortunate
affair—”
“The devil take the affair,” said I, in no amiable
voice; “it was to get rid of it entirely that I sent
for you; for I must stop that cursed endictment of
yours. I don't want it said of me hereafter that I
was once in my life endicted for a felony.”
“Oh, sir,” said he, with a smile, “we are in no
hurry about these things; the bill will lie over till
we can procure a little more evidence, and some of
a better quality. Don't be in any alarm; but allow
me to recommend you to employ counsel. My
friend Sharphead, I think, will be your best man.”
“I don't want any counsel,” said I, “and Sharphead
may go to the devil; I want to confide to you
the true secret of this extraordinary affair.”
“Faith, sir,” said he, looking at me in surprise,
“if you can do that, the case is not so ridiculous
as I thought. Really, Mr. Higginson, I was rather
amused than otherwise at the charge brought
against you, not supposing you knew any thing of,
or had any connexion whatever with, the disappearance
of poor Sheppard Lee. But, since you talk
of secrets, sir, I must inform you, I am not the
person you should make any confessions to. I
must again recommend you to employ counsel.”
And with that he was about leaving me, but I
arrested him. “Stop, Jack,” said I (his name was
John Darling, and he is very well known in the
state, though he was turned out of office), “you and I
are old friends, and we must have a talk together.”
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At these words he gave me a hard stare, looking
more astonished than ever.
“Jack,” said I, taking him by the hand, “I'll
make you stare harder than that. Sheppard Lee
is no more dead than I am; though, as for his body,
I believe Old Nick has got it. Now, my boy, I
take it you will act as a friend in this matter, and
not blab my secret: but the truth is, it is John H.
Higginson who is dead, and I who am living.”
“The deuse it is!” said the lawyer, whose
amazement set me into a capital humour. “And
pray, sir,” he added, “if John H. Higginson is
dead, who are you?”
“Sheppard Lee!” said I, bursting into a laugh,
“only that you see me now in John H. Higginson's
body.”
I then proceeded to inform him, as I have informed
the reader, of my digging for the treasure,
of my sudden death, of the visit of my spirit to old
Turnbuckle's, of the disappearance of my body, of
my finding and entering that of Squire Higginson,
in which he now saw me, and, in fine, of all the
other circumstances connected with the transformation;
all which he heard like a man whom the
novelty of the relation astounded into marble.
“Upon my soul,” said he, when I had done, “you
have told me a most surprising story. And so you
really think yourself Sheppard Lee—that is, Sheppard
Lee's spirit in Squire Higginson's body?”
“Think myself, sir!” said I, a little fiercely.
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“Do you presume to slight my veracity, sir? or to
doubt my common sense?”
“By no means,” said he; “I have the utmost
respect for both. Your story has completely satisfied
me of your innocence. A most wonderful
story, sir! truly, a most wonderful story!” And
repeating these words over and over again, he fell
to nodding his head and musing, staring at me all
the time, like one who is lost in wonder; and then
suddenly rousing up, he burst into a roar of laughter.
Seeing that I was incensed at his merriment,
he hastened to apologize, declaring that he was not
laughing at my story, but at the absurdity he had
been so nigh committing in endicting me for my
own murder; and he added, that my relation was
altogether the most remarkable he had ever heard
in his life.
I then gave him to understand, I expected, for
very good and obvious reasons, that he would keep
the story to himself; which he faithfully promised.
He then fell to cross-questioning me in relation to
different points; and he was particularly curious
to know what I supposed had become of my body;
when, not being able to satisfy him on that point,
he himself suggested that perhaps Squire Higginson's
spirit had taken possession of it, as I had done
with his, and carried it off for some purpose or
other, and that we should soon have news of him;
an idea that was so agreeable to him, that he fell
to laughing as hard as ever. “Sir,” said he, shaking
me by the hand in excellent good-humour,
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“we will soon have you out of this dog-hole, and
that without betraying your secret. Heaven forbid
I should spoil the good fortune of my old friend
Sheppard Lee! No, sir, I am no tale-bearer, or
blabber of secrets. Comfort yourself, sir; I never
had the least idea of endicting you on this absurd
charge. Nobody believes Sheppard Lee has been
murdered by you, nor, indeed, by any one else.
No, poor devil! the general opinion now is, that
he has taken himself off, to get clear of duns and
sheriffs; and as for the bloody shoe and hat, why
that's a common way of turning pursuers off the
scent, by throwing dust in their eyes. The charge
will be abandoned, sir; you will be liberated, and
may, if you like such amusement, prosecute your
captors by the dozen for assault and battery. Farewell,
Mr. Higginson,—that is, Mr. Lee; fortune
smiles upon you at last; and you are a happy,—a
wonderful man, sir.—Farewell!”
The attorney then left me; and so much diverted
was he by my adventure, that I could hear him
indulge peal after peal of mirth, until he had got
out of the prison.
Now it may be supposed that my story, from its
reasonableness, carried conviction to the attorney's
mind; and so I was persuaded. But I reckoned
without my host; the hypocritical gentleman did
not believe a word of it, however much he pretended
to do so. But in this he was like the rest
of the fraternity: I never, indeed, knew a lawyer
to believe any thing unless he was paid for it; and
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I forgot to present my gentleman a fee. My story,
therefore, not being paid for, or proved according
to law, only convinced this skeptical person that I—
“the unfortunate Higginson,” as he called me—
had suddenly lost my senses, and gone staring
mad; and in consequence, disregarding all his
promises of secrecy, he ran over the whole village,
diverting every one he could lay hands on with an
account of “the poor squire's hallucination,” as he
termed it—that is to say, his conceit that his body
was now inhabited by the soul of Sheppard Lee.
But to give a certain personage his due, or one
of that personage's representatives, I must confess
that Darling, who was at bottom a good-natured
fellow, recollected one part of his promise, and
took measures to effect my discharge from prison;
which was no very difficult matter, people being
now pretty well aware of the folly of the charge
they had brought against me, and the absurdity of
the evidence designed to support it. The opinion
was already entertained that poor Sheppard Lee,
instead of being murdered, had taken himself out
of the neighbourhood to avoid his creditors, having
left his hat and shoe in the swamp only as blinds
to those who might be most anxious to secure his
person; and pursuers had already left the village
to discover his place of concealment.
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Bird, Robert Montgomery, 1806-1854 [1836], Sheppard Lee, volume 1 (Harper & Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf016v1].
