The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

132 THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. conscious weaver’s life. Certain it is that, but for the accidental encounter with his friend upon the steps, he had never left the cellar alive. Not only was every- thing prepared for his death, but the unhallowed grave already dug for his interment. “Curse him!” muttered Flin, between his teeth. “ He has the devil’s own luck of it. No matter— we must keep him prisoner instead !”’ Tim called for a cup of coffee, and lit his pipe, to wile away the time till Ben’s arrival. He did not keep him long in expectation, for scarcely had the bell of the college church struck midnight than his heavy step was heard descending. ‘The landlord saw, by a glance, that he had been successful, and closed and fastened the door at the stair’s head after him. “ Well,” said Tim, ‘‘ have you got the papers?” *“T have,” replied Ben, holding them out to view. ‘‘And there,” said the weaver, ‘‘is the proof I promised you—so we are quits. lam wrong, perhaps, in the eves of men, in thus making a trafficking with justice ; but my heart acquits me.” He held out the fearful proofs of Ben’s crime in his right hand, at the same time extending his left to receive the papers. No sooner was the exchange made, than Flin, who had slipped off his shoes, that his approach might not be heard, struck him on the head with a sand bag from behind. Tim’s Dick fell without a groan. “ You have murdered him!” said Ben. COniiclooecl SS (SO