Blind Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

in your predicament to sea,” he continued. “Though some, I allow, were older than you and were keen for the life. I have no wish to send a boy where he has no wish to go.”
    “Perhaps I would custom myself to it,” I offered.
    “Perhaps.”
    I hesitated then, not knowing the propriety of what I wished to suggest. But finally: “Is there some way I could be of use to you? I’m good with sums. I can read, sir, and write a good hand. And I even know some French.”
    “Ho! French, is it?”
    “And I can set type.”
    That gave him pause. “There we may be on to something. Of course, your father, the unfortunate printer, would have taught you, would he not?”
    “He did, sir.”
    “Well, Jeremy, in all truth, I pride myself that I need no special help from anyone—man or boy—to get me through my daily round. In short, I must decline the generous offer of your personal service—though not, I confess, without some hesitation. No, I sincerely believe work as apprentice to a printer would fit your talents and background better.”
    I felt it only right to inform Sir John that even as I had my unfortunate meeting with Bledsoe, I was seeking a print shop in order to inquire after employment. “My father told me I was as fast with a stick as some journeymen. He … he taught me well.”
    Sir John reached out toward me and, groping slightly, found my arm, to which he gave a gentle touch. “I’ve no doubt of it, boy.” Then, abruptly, he was all business: “There is a man I know. He is less than a friend and more than an acquaintance. But he has great influence in the printing trade. A word from him would establish you with any one of several printers. I dislike asking a favor of him, but pride must be put aside on such occasions. So, Jeremy Proctor, there will be time enough for such matters on the morrow. It will be Tuesday, and Mr. Saunders Welch sits in his court. The chief magistrate of the Bow Street Court has an entire day to himself, part of which he shall devote to your cause. You have his word on that. In the meantime I have a spare bed in my garret, and you will be most welcome as my guest.”
    Thus it was settled. Sir John summoned Benjamin Bailey and sent me off for a tour in his care. I found, when we two emerged in the street, that the day had all but passed. Nevertheless I looked with interest at all around me and gave particular attention to Covent Garden as we passed it on our way. I had no notion to find such country greenery displayed here in this great city. And I asked Mr. Bailey if there were many such places about.
    “None but this,” said he, “and a good thing, too.”
    “Why is that, sir?” I asked.
    “Well, m’lad, the truth of it is this. Full many a blackguard can hide himself among the stalls and stands come nightfall. And the lanes what lead into the square are many so narrow that it makes this a most difficult precinct to maintain.”
    “Maintain?”
    “Patrol. Keep clear of the lower element. And the fact that there’s gentlefolk lives here and the court so near, well, it’s sometimes an embarrassment is what it is.”
    I had no doubt of Mr. Bailey’s ability to handle what he called the lower element. Obviously a man of intelligence, he was most notable, however, for his size and strength. He stood well over six feet and must have weighed twelve stone or better, and in his best days (which were then not long past), he could have given the great Daniel Mendoza himself a considerable tussle. Yet with me he was then, as ever afterward, extremely gentle.
    As night fell, the flow of people in the streets seemed much diminished. I noted that some passersby gave us a wide berth, though others who knew Bailey by sight and name were quick to give him a cheerful greeting. They seemed to take heart in his presence—as, I confess, I did myself.
    “Is his house nearby?” I asked after we had covered some distance.
    “Whose house would that be, m’lad?” Mr. Bailey seemed