ve
no chance of escape; as, even when the verdict of a jury is favourable,
their character and position must be absolutely and hopelessly lost.

In these comparatively steady-going times, the funds often remain for
months with little or no variation; but during the last years of the
French war, a difference of eight or even ten per cent. might happen in
an hour, and scripholders might realise eighteen or twenty per cent. by
the change in the loans they so eagerly sought. From what a fearful load
of ever-increasing expenditure the nation was relieved by the peace
resulting from the battle of Waterloo, may be judged from the fact that
the decrease of Government charges was at once declared to exceed
L2,000,000 per month.

One of the most extraordinary Stock Exchange conspiracies ever devised
was that carried out by De Berenger and Cochrane Johnstone in 1814. It
was a time when Bonaparte's military operations against the allies had
depressed the funds, and great national anxiety prevailed. The
conspiracy was dramatically carried out. On the 21st of February, 1824,
about one a.m., a violent knocking was heard at the door of the "Ship
Inn," then the principal hotel of Dover. On the door being opened, a
person in richly embroidered scarlet uniform, wet with spray, announced
himself as Lieutenant-Colonel De Bourg, aide-de-camp of Lord Cathcart.
He had a star and silver medals on his breast, and wore a dark fur
travelling cap, banded with gold. He said he had been brought over by a
French vessel from Calais, the master of which, afraid of touching at
Dover, had landed him about two miles off, along the coast. He was the
bearer of important news--the allies had gained a great victory and had
entered Paris. Bonaparte had been overtaken by a detachment of Sachen's
Cossacks, who had slain and cut him into a thousand pieces. General
Platoff had saved Paris from being reduced to ashes. The white cockade
was worn everywhere, and an immediate peace was now certain. He
immediately ordered out a post-chaise and four, but first wrote the news
to Admiral Foley, the port-admiral at Deal. The letter reached the
admiral about four a.m., but the morning proving foggy, the telegraph
would not work. Off dashed De Bourg (really De Berenger, an adventurer,
afterwards a livery-stable keeper), throwing napoleons to the post-boys
every time he changed horses. At Bexley Heath, finding the telegraph
could not have worked, he moderated his pace and spr