This demanded an
amazing circumspection, but Peace was as stealthy as a cat, and he would
keep silent vigil for hours rather than fail from an over keen anxiety.
Having marked the place of his entry, and having chosen an appropriate
hour, he would prevent the egress of his enemies by screwing up the
doors.
He then secured the room wherein he worked, and the job finished, he
slung himself into the night by the window, so that, ere an alarm could
be raised, his pony-trap had carried the booty to Evelina Road.
Such was the outline of his plan; but, being no pedant, he varied it
at will: nor was he likely to court defeat through lack of resource.
Accomplished as he was in his proper business, he was equally alert to
meet the accompanying risks. He had brought the art of cozening strange
dogs to perfection; and for the exigence of escape, his physical
equipment was complete. He would resist capture with unparalleled
determination, and though he shuddered at the shedding of blood, he
never hesitated when necessity bade him pull the trigger. Moreover,
there was no space into which he would not squeeze his body, and the
iron bars were not yet devised through which he could not make an exit.
Once--it was at Nottingham--he was surprised by an inquisitive detective
who demanded his name and trade. 'I am a hawker of spectacles,' replied
Peace, 'and my licence is downstairs. Wait two minutes and I'll show it
you.' The detective never saw him again. Six inches only separated the
bars of the window, but Peace asked no more, and thus silently he
won his freedom.
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