St. John’s Street, came through the gardens of the Canongate to the back of the Excise Office. Finding no trace of his associates there, Ainslie in his turn repaired to Smith’s.
The explanation of these occurrences, which had dispersed the gang in bewilderment and consternation, was singularly simple, but the issue might have been very different. Mr. James Bonar, Deputy Solicitor of Excise, had returned to the office about half-past eight o’clock to get certain papers which he had left in his room. Finding the outer door on the latch, he assumed that some of the clerks were still in the building, and was entering the office when the Deacon, who appears to have lost his usual presence of mind, bounced out from behind the door, and, brushing past him, fled hastily from the court. Mr. Bonar attached no importance to this incident, thinking the person belonged to the office, and, being pressed for time, ran upstairs to his own room, got what he wanted, and hastened from the building, slamming the outer door after him.
If Ainslie had not lost his head at the sudden entrance and exit of the Solicitor and the Deacon, but had blown his whistle, as he should have done, whenever the former appeared, Smith and Brown, rushing out with their pistols cocked, would have encountered Mr. Bonar in the lobby, and murder would doubtless have been done. As it was, that gentleman probably owed his life to the pusillanimity of Ainslie and Brodie, the latter of whom could, from his ambush, easily have closed with him as he entered the hall.
After his undignified flight from the Excise Office, Deacon Brodie reached his own house about nine o’clock, where he once more changed his attire, putting on the fine white suit he usually wore. He then hurried to the house of his mistress, Jean Watt, in Libberton’s Wynd, where he remained till the following morning. Meanwhile, at Smith’s house the other three were discussing the disappointing result of the night’s expedition and indulging in mutual recriminations. The non-appearance of Brodie added to their uncertainty, and they parted for the night in no amiable mood, Ainslie and Brown going over to the New Town, where, in a tavern kept by one Fraser, they sought consolation in a bowl of punch. The next day—Thursday—the Deacon came to Brown and Ainslie’s lodging in Burnet’s Close and laughingly told them that Smith had accused him of deserting his post the previous night. He was received but sourly by Brown, who made no secret of sharing Smith’s opinion. These, however, were minor matters, the vital question being whether or not suspicion would be directed to themselves. It was arranged that they should all meet at Smith’s the following night, when the sixteen pounds—miserable recompense of so much risk and labour!—was to be equally divided among them.
Accordingly, upon the Friday evening, in the upper room of Smith’s house, each man received his share, amounting to a little over four pounds. Ainslie, to whom Brodie owed a “debt of honour,” took occasion to require payment, and got one of the five-pound notes and some gold from him. The Deacon, who had staked infinitely more, thus made less than any of them by the adventure. Brown, so soon as he had received his share, went out, like Judas, and for a similar purpose.
The reader may remember the two trunks in which the silks stolen from Inglis & Horner’s shop were packed with a view to transmission to John Tasker at Chesterfield. One of these had been despatched some time before by the Berwick carrier, the other had been forwarded that week by the Newcastle waggoner, and Smith’s wife was to leave for England on the Saturday in order to treat personally with the proprietor of the “Bird in Hand,” who was probably a difficult customer to deal with. Smith and Ainslie therefore proceeded to the New Town, where, at the inn kept by William Drysdale, they purchased a ticket for Mrs. Smith by the mail-coach to Newcastle on the following day. The five-pound note was tendered in payment, and they received the change, less the price of the ticket.
Let us now see how prudent Mr. Brown had been improving his time. Daily since the 25th of January there had appeared in each of the three Edinburgh newspapers advertisements offering £150 reward and a free pardon to whoever should disclose the robbers of Inglis & Horner’s shop. The excitement occasioned by that crime had been revived and increased tenfold by the discovery of the attack upon the Excise Office, which was made by ten o’clock on the night of its occurrence, and the vigilance of the authorities was proportionally augmented.
Brown stood in a more ticklish situation towards the outraged majesty of the law than any of his companions, for over him hung the sentence of transportation, which he had hitherto successfully evaded; and it would go hard with him if he fell into the hands of justice in connection with any of his later villainies, which might happen at any moment. He was, moreover, profoundly disgusted with the manner in which the Excise business had miscarried through no fault of his own, and would not be sorry to steal a march on his cowardly associates. He was also cunning enough to foresee that, if he turned informer, he would not only earn a handsome reward, but enjoy immunity for his past performances, as it would be necessary for the public prosecutor to obtain a pardon for his old offence also, before his evidence could be made available against his fellow-criminals.
Having carefully considered his position, therefore, and immediately after securing his dividend at Smith’s, Brown proceeded to William Middleton, of the Sheriff-Clerk’s Office, and informed him that he had certain discoveries to make concerning the robberies recently committed in the city. Late as it then was—eleven o’clock—Middleton at once took Brown to the Procurator-Fiscal, to whom he told the whole story, suppressing, however, in the meantime, all mention of Deacon Brodie’s name in connection with the crimes. His object in taking this course was doubtless to secure a hold upon the Deacon which would enable him, at his leisure, to blackmail that respectable gentleman with impunity. At his own request the Procurator-Fiscal and Middleton went with him that same night to Salisbury Crags, where Brown pointed out a number of false keys underneath a stone, hidden there by Smith after the affair at the Excise Office, of which the Fiscal took possession.
The next morning, Saturday, 8th March, Brown, accompanied by Middleton, left for Chesterfield in pursuit of Inglis & Horner’s goods by the very coach in which Mrs. Smith was to have performed the same journey. How they fared upon their errand is not recorded, but it would have been interesting to know what happened when John Tasker’s unexpected guests dropped in at the “Bird in Hand.”
The same day Ainslie, Smith, and his wife, and servant-maid were apprehended; and, having been examined before the Sheriff, were committed to the Tolbooth, the two women being subsequently set at liberty.
That Saturday evening the rumour of the prisoners’ arrest spread like wildfire through the city, and on Deacon Brodie, confident in his fool’s paradise, the intelligence must have fallen like a thunderbolt. Apart from his temporary loss of nerve at the Excise Office, he was undoubtedly a man of courage and resource, and the step he now determined to take might well have daunted a less intrepid character. This was to visit the Tolbooth in person and obtain speech with Smith and Ainslie, so as to induce them, if it were not too late, to hold their tongues. To do this, knowing nothing of where he stood or how much had come out, was to put his head into the lion’s mouth; but he saw that, at all costs, he must ascertain what had happened. Accordingly, having taken his cane and cocked hat, the Deacon, with that “particular air” which characterised his walk, sallied forth upon his desperate errand. The Tolbooth was but a few paces from his own door, and he was familiar with the jail, both as a Town Councillor and in the ordinary course of his employment. Arrived there, he congratulated the officials on their capture, and expressed his curiosity to see the redoubtable burglars with whose deeds all Edinburgh was then ringing, but was informed that no one was allowed access to them. He was therefore compelled to return home no wiser than he went, where, it is probable, the owner of the house in Brodie’s Close passed a sleepless and remorseful night.
Next morning, realising that the game was up, and that he must prepare for the worst—for he might now be arrested at any moment—Deacon Brodie sent for his foreman, Robert Smith, at eight o’clock, told him that he was about to leave town for a day or two on business, and gave him a message about a waistcoat and a pair of breeches he required for the journey. He then casually asked “if there were any news about the people who had broke into the Excise.” The foreman answered that Smith was in custody, and that Brown had been sent to England; and, knowing his master’s intimacy with these men, added that he hoped he (Brodie) was not concerned with them, to which the other made no reply.
If