When I called at the sister’s house, the servant told me she was out, but would be back in an hour; so I left my name, promising to call again.  I returned again at one o’clock in the afternoon, and the sister was in, but declined to see me.  As I was coming down the steps, a policeman who seemed to be lounging on the opposite side of the street, beckoned to me, and suspecting nothing, I crossed over to see what he wanted.  He simply wanted to know my name, and when I gave it to him he informed me that I was his prisoner.  I asked for what? and he said “as a fugitive from justice in New Jersey.”

This was for taking the pains to come down from Hartford to inquire after the welfare of my wife! whose sister, the moment the servant told her I had been there, and would call again, had gone to the nearest police station and given information, or made statements, which led to the setting of this latest trap for me.  The policeman took me before a justice who sent me to the Tombs.  On my arrival there I managed to pick up a lawyer, or rather one of the sharks of the place picked me up, and said that for twenty-five dollars he would get me clear in three or four hours.  I gave him the money, and from that day till now, I have never set eyes upon him.  I lay in a cell all night, and next morning Elizabeth’s brother, to whom the sister in New York had sent word that I was caged, came over from Newark to see me.  He said he felt sorry for me, but that he was “bound to put me through.”  He then asked me if I would go over to Newark without a requisition from the Governor of New Jersey, and I told him I would not; whereupon he went away without saying another word, and I waited all day to hear from the lawyer to whom I had given twenty-five dollars, but he did not come.

So next day when the brother came over and asked me the same question, I said I would go; wherein I was a fool; for I ought to have reflected that he had had twenty-four hours in which to get a requisition, and that he might in fact have made application for one already, without getting it, and every delay favored my chances of getting out.  But I had no one to advise me, and so I went quietly with him and an officer to the ferry, where we crossed and went by cars to Newark.  I was at once taken before a justice, who, after a hearing of the case, bound me over, under bonds of only one thousand dollars, to take my trial for bigamy.

If I could have gone into the street I could have procured this comparatively trifling bail in half an hour; as it was, after I was in jail I sent for a man whom I knew, and gave him my gold watch and one hundred dollars, all the money I had, to procure me bail, which he promised to do; but he never did a thing for me, except to rob me.

A lawyer came to me and offered to take my case in hand for one hundred dollars, but I had not the money to give him.  I then sent to New York for a lawyer whom I knew, and when he came to see me he took the same view of the case that Elizabeth and I did; that is, that the long separation between my first wife and myself, and my presumed ignorance as to whether she was alive or dead, gave me full liberty to marry again.  At least, he thought any court would consider it an extenuating circumstance, and he promised to be present at my trial and aid me all he could.