To Hold a Candle to the Devil

Ella Partridge, eight years old, lives in a poorhouse in 1870's London with her parents. But when her parents die of an illness that left the poorhouse quarantined, she's taken in by a wealthy family

It was an unbearably cold night during autumn. I was eight years old. My brother Jeremy told my parents we were going to play with some friends out in the street.

"All right, Ella. It is your turn to prig a reader."

"I don't want to do this, Jeremy," I said, nervously.

"Don't ye worry! Henry and I have done this lots of times! For the most part, we get away with it!"

"I won't do it!"

"What's the matter, Ella? Are ye afraid?" Henry asked, tauntingly.

"I say she is, Henry. Wouldn't it be a shame if our friends learned that you were too much of a coward to steal one mere pocketbook?"

"It would!" Henry responded. I couldn't take it anymore. I saw two men conversing with each other just a few feet away from where we were standing.

"Ye have seen Jeremy and I do it before, Ella. Ye know everything ye need to do."

Lorraine started to tremble "Jeremy! Henry! Don't let her do it!"

Henry was irritated. "Oh, be quiet, Lorraine!"

"Go on, Ella! Ye can do it," Jeremy said.

I slowly inched my way towards the two men, and got behind the one I could get closest to without being seen. I slowly put my hand into the man's pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and pocketbook and ran the other way with it. On the way I heard lots of yelling behind me.

"Stop that thief!"

"Get that little devil child!"

I turned and looked back, and noticed I was being chased whilst my brothers and sisters just stood there watching. I condemned myself hard for doing this, but my brothers and sisters told me I would become accustomed to stealing without any regrets soon enough. I was hoping I could get away with it, but as I turned a street corner, pocketbook in hand, a policeman, or as I called them at that time "blue bottles", grabbed me by the arm.

"I recognize you, gutter rat!"

Between running the fastest I thought I had ever run before in my life and getting in trouble with the police, my heart was pounding. I was out of breath. I started to deeply regret giving in to doing what I did. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes, but somehow I managed to suppress them.

"Sir, please-"

"Enough with this. You are in big trouble. Where are your parents?"

My voice started to falter. I began to shiver uncontrollably from the cold. I was the middle of December. Hesitantly I answered his question. "At home, sir."

"And where, pray tell, do you live?"

I looked around nervously for my siblings as I spoke. "Well, sir...we don't have a home of our own. We live in a poorhouse here in London."

"I should have suspected as much."

"Are ye going to put me in ruffles, officer?"

"Ruffles? You mean handcuffs?"

I nodded, feeling a little overcome with anxiety. I was also angry at my brothers for pressuring me into doing this.

"That depends, child. Why would you commit such a crime?"

"Well...my brothers, Jeremy and Henry, dared me. I didn't want to do it, honest I didn't! But we are so poor and desperate to earn enough money to have a home of our own."

"Stealing money is not earning it. You should know that."

I looked down and shifted my feet, feeling disappointed in myself and ashamed. How were my parents going to react to this?

He interrupted my thoughts with another question. "What is your name, child?"

"Ella Partridge, sir."

"Alright, Miss Partridge. Come with me."

This deeply worried me. "Where are we going?"

"I am taking you back to the poorhouse. Where are your brothers?"

I pointed down the street. My brothers and sisters were huddled together in a group, nervously looking at the both of us.

"Over there, down the street. My sisters Lorraine and Eustace are with them."

As we got closer and closer to them with each step taken, Eustace's blue eyes became more and more filled with fear. Lorraine just stood there shivering, on the verge of crying. Jeremy and Henry were very angry with me.

Henry decided to place the entire blame on me. "Ella! Ye gonoph!"

I was not going to hear of it. "Gonoph?! Ye pressured me into it! Ye and Jeremy wouldn't take no for an answer! Trassenos!"

"Trassenos?!" Jeremy yelled.

"Enough! All of you come with me," the policeman said, fed up. We all trailed followed him back home. On the way I turned around and glared at them.

"I still say. Trassenos."

Author's Note

So, what do you think? I'm using Victorian slang occasionally, seeing as Ella is low class.

Here are some translations:
To Hold a Candle to the Devil = To be evil
Prig = to steal
Reader = wallet or pocketbook
Ruffles = Handcuffs
Trasseno = an evil person

Reviews

[Raya Avans]

I am currently reading Jane Eyre and needless to say I am loving it so it was interesting to find you. This is fairly well written platform for what could be very interesting and life learning story.. I am interested to see where you go with this. Also, I think you should add more to this, I feel like this is maybe a bit rushed, as if it could be stronger if you slowed it down and added more description. but of coarse, that is only one persons opinion. Overall, well written and I remain interested in the rest.