Ivan the Terrible; or, Dark Deeds of Night — page 174: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

170 IVAN THE whom Andy, after coughing and hickupping much, at once fixed his bleary eyes. ‘And who the devil may you be?” he asked at last, with jerking utterance. = “ A gentleman’s servant,” replied the individual, and his appearance confirmed the assertion, for he was a modest person, and attired in livery. ‘ Who is your master, then?” This question the man hesitated to answer for some seconds, and Master Andy repeated his words in a more forcible manner. “ My master is'Sir Charles Cavendish, the magistrate, if you must know, then,” said he, at length, - ‘‘ Magistrate ?” roared Andy, in great passion. “Out of this, then, you confounded spy! We want no magistrate’s servants, or anything of that kind here,” As he concluded this speech, amid great applause, the in- furiated man hurled a heavy pewter pot with all his force at the head of the new comer. Luckily the missile was not aimed very steadily ; and, some- what surprised as well as alarmed at this tough greeting, the man hastily left the room, nearly overturning the landlord at the door, who was bringing in a huge bow] of hot puiich. “Why the devil do you let any of that magistrate’s people comein here? Haven’t I told you I won't have anything to do with them ?” said Andy, the deputy king of the ‘ Forze,’ as the liquor was placed before him. 2 ‘This man has only been a day in the service of Sir Charles,’’ replied the landlord, ‘‘and dogs not know the rules of the ‘ Forge’ yet, Master Andrew.” “ Curse Sir Charles, and all his sétvants too, whole lot ; so do all the Forgers.” __ “So do I,” roared the butcher, “The old. scoundrel con- demned my weights only a fortnight Ago, and fined me forty shillings, confound him !”’ A loud laugh at this speech from some of the butcher's own customers, and the drunken Forgers generally, made him wish he had not spoken go loud, ‘Shut up, and give us a song, somebody,” bawled Atidy, the master of the revels. ; “Dye hear?” echoed the landlord, “ Can’t somebody give us a little harmony just by way of a change?” For some time no one appeared to be musically inclined, a circumstance that by no means improved the temper of the drunken chairman. “ What’s the Se, I should like to know, of keeping a lot of fellows about and paying for drink if I can’t have a song whenever I feel inclined ?” growled Andy, hickupping. A short, shabby-looking man, who had passed the period of middle age, now rose to his feet. ‘Well, as nobody else seems inclined to begin, and it’s a pity the company should be disappointed, I'll try my hand at a verse or two,” he said, modestly coughing. “ Bravo! bravo! Order! Silence! Shut up!” These and other cries greeted this offer, in the midst of which Master Andy ordered in. a fresh and very large sapply of liquor, desiring the landlord to pay particular attention to the wants of the vocalist. ‘‘ And now you can fire away, old cock, as soon as you like,” Andy continued, when the fluids had been brought in by the red-faced landlord. The timid, modest-looking man, who had volunteered to sing, began in a wheezing tone of voice, the following ditty : “THE TRIPLE TREE. ** Of all the trees that’s in this land, There’s none like that T wot of ; The blossom’s big upon this tree, Ne’er hang until they rot off. But if it bloom at morning’s dawn, The fruit’s so ripe and brown, That when an hour has passed away We always cut it down. Hurrah, boys! “‘ The tree, the tree, thé triple tree, None with it can compare ; Fine, heavy, goodly nuts it brings, But in an hour is bate,” I hate the . TERRIBLE. — “That’s enough,” roared Andy, hickupping, and drinking deeply, as the man was singing the second verse. * What, in the devil’s name, kind of song do you call that?” — “Tt'g called the ‘ Triple Tree,’ ’’ responded the singer,ewith 2 Wink. * ; “ And what sort of tree is that, pray?” “The gallows tree!” responded the man, with a strange emphasis. ; For a moment Andy did not speak, but gave him a fixed, earnest look, ‘ ; ; ‘‘Then, who the deuce are vow ?’’ he asked. “T am commonly and vulgarly known as Harry Hangman, though I assure you that is not my real name.” | All those near him shrunk away as the man thus announced. himself, and 3 ghastly paleness overspread the hitherto flushed and bloodstained countenance of Master Andrew. “You infernal, good-for-nothing hound! What do you mean by coming eve with your songs? I’ve a good mind to smash you !” said the deputy king. ~. . . “Don’t put yourself in a rage, Master Andy, all about nothing,” said the old man, mildly. ‘If you don’t like my song I won’t sing it, although I’ve come all the way from Eastcheap on purpose to see you.” ip “Me? What do you want with me Ne ott “To judge your weight and see what kind of a rope you'll take when .it comes to your tfirn one of these fine days. You're & big, bony man, Andy, aiid it wouldn’t do to sport a common piece of hemp with you. Good night, I shall see you again soon.” | ee i As he finished speaking, the public hangman, for such he was, stepped out of the room. : YZ $: _ Perhaps it was well for him that he did so then and there, for, with a roar like that of an infatiated bull, Mastet Andrew rushed after him with the intention of smashing every bone in his body, | ; : The deputy king of the Forge was too late, however ; the hangman had escaped ; bit there was a man half concealed in the shadow of the opposite houses, afd upon him Master Andréw sprang in the twinkling of an eye, a ~ os CHAPTER LXXXIIL. ANDY MEETS WITH AARON THE JEW—AARON DISCOVERS THE STOLEN BANK-NOTES, AND ACQUAINTS ANDY OF IVAN’S CAPTIVITY, WHEN the drunken man.perceived who it was he had collared his features became paler and paler. The surprise nearly sobered him, as, in husky tones, he muttered, “What! Aaron the traitor, who, on the night of the Cloth- worker’s murder, stole our money and déserted the Forgers?” So great was the fear of Aaron the Jew traitor that he trembled in every limb. ‘ He would have fallen to the earth had not the strong arm of Andy upheld him. “What, is it possible? Is it really you?’ Andy gasped, after along pause. ‘“ How well you are looking; you have got fat since you deserted us, Aaron.” ‘Yes, it's me, and no mistake,” replied Aaron; “but I’m gel though.” “T thought and hoped you were in hell by this time,” growled Andy, ' ‘ em are looking very well,” repeated Aaron, with a sickly smile, , ' ‘What the devil have yow to do with my looks, you sneak- - ing imposter, and what have you come here for? To meet your brother’s fate, the slopseller in the borough ?” “To see you, good Master Andrew, of course. I like to seé my old friends sometimes,” said the Jew, with a smile. “You cursed, snivelling hypocrite, if you don’t confess to me the truth I'll beat your brains out on the pavement. Have you confessed about the murder ?” : Andy tightened his grasp on the Jew till he was almost choked, and had only just enough breath to gasp out, ws ‘My confession, Andy, is in writing ; if you kill me—_” ‘comichooks;com