The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 364: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. *{ have ao particular matter to attend to imme- diately! If, howover, you desiro to seo me, I shall ve most beppy to meet you this evening——”’ “Mhis fiddlestick |” interrupted Jack Rily, im- patiently. “ Yéu know that you never kept the appointment you made with mo after that Stamford Street affair the other day—when you went away with tho young girl in the cab; and yct you as- sured mo that there was money to be got through her——” ; “Well, well—I have not time to talk of the mat- ter now,” said Mrs. Mortimer, angrily: “and I must take my leave of you.” “Lord bless you! i’m not going to be put off in this fashion, old lady,” cried Jack. “It suits me to have a little further chat with you—and I’m deter- mined the whim shall be gratified. So take my arm at once, and come along. If we stand here palavering, we shall soon have a mob about us— becauso it isn’t every day that two such handsome people as you and I are seen together,” he added, with a horrible chuckle. “But perhaps you are not going my way,” said Mrs. Mortimer, still hesitating to take the proffered arm, and deeply vexed at this encounter. “Ohl yes I am—becauso I'll go any way you like,” respondod Jack Rily, in tho most accommo- dating spirit. 'Well—you shall be my companion for o short time,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, affecting to langh in good humonr; and, taking his arm, she pro- ceeded with him along the Strand. “IT met our friend Vitriol Bob Jast night at a public-house,’”’ observed Jack, who seemed quite proud of having the hideous old woman clinging to him. ‘He looked remarkably savage when he sa%7 me in my bran now toggery—for he thought to himself that the money which purchased it ought to have belonged to him. I hadn’t scen him sinco the night in Stamford Street; and, as he had tho impudence to stare at mo in a threat- ening manner, I went up to him and whispered in his ear, ‘ What about old Torrens, Bob?’ We turned quite livid with rage, and ground his tecth together; then, after a few moments’ con- sideration, he said—also in a whisper —‘ Jf it wasnt that you knew that secret, I’d serve you out nicely, old fellow: but Pil be even with you vet, I dare say.— Whenever uo like, Bob, said I; and then we sate down in different parts of the room and stared at each other all the time wo wero smoking our pipes. But not another word passed between us; and the other peoplo who wero pre- sent, knowing that we were excellent pals until Jately, wondered what tho devil was tho matter,” ‘And did he bury tho dead body, do you know 2” inquired Mrs, Mortimer, “J didn’t put the question to him,” answered Jack Rily. “ Nothing more passed betweon us than what TI have just told you: but I have no doubt that he Inid old Torrens two or three feet under tho kitchen floor in tho Haunted House. And now, how do yon suppose that I and Vitriol Bob stand with regard to each othor?” “As onemics, I should suppose,” replied Mrs, Mortimer, wondoring by what means she could possibly shake off hor disagreeable companion. “As mortal—implacablo—unrelenting enemics,” continued the man, lowering his voice: for his loud talking had already attracted the notice of tho passers-by in the Strand, end ho had just caught 309 sight of a policeman who appeared to be oyeing him rather suspiciously. ‘‘ Yes—as bitter enemies,” he repeated. “ Not that I have any resontment now against Bob: because my revenge is gratified, and I am inoroe than even with him. But as he will take the first opportunity to thrust a knife into my ribs, or dash his vitriol bottle in my face, whenever he catches me in a lonely place,—why, I must be pre- pared to struggle with him to the very death. So, my old tiger-cat,” added the Doctor, with amazing cheerfulness, considering the pravity of the topic, “ whenever he and I do so moet, only one of us will walk away alive. That’s as cortain as that you’re leaning on my arm, and that I’m proud of your company.” “Js Vitriol Bob, as you call him, such a desperate fellow ?” inquired Mrs, Mortimer, wishing the Doc tor at the hottest place she could think of. “Whi, I’ve told you all about him before,” ex- claimed Jack. ,“ And now let mo give you a little piece of advico about yourself, old gal——”’ “About me!” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, with a shudder occasioned by a presentiment of what sho was going to hear, “Yes—about you, my tiger-cat,” ropeated the Doctor. “ Remember that Vitriol Bob never forgets or forgives—and he owes you onc, That’sall! But, when IJ think of it, I shall constitute myself your lawful protector—because I never did mect any woman so precious ugly as you are; and ugliness, when joined to ferocity, is beauty in my oyes—as I have before told you.” “Well, well—wo will discuss all these points another time,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “JI must leavo you here,” she added, stopping suddenly short at the corner of Wellington Street, leading to Water- loo Bridge. ‘Your way is mine,” observed Jack Rily, coolly, as ho compelled her to walk on. “ But, by the bye, what were you doing in that bank at tho door of which I met you 2” “T merely went in to see a clerk of my acquaint- ance,” replied the old woman, cursing in her heart the odious companion who thus pertinaciously attached himsclf to her. ‘Come, that won't do, old gal !” exclaimed Jack, ns he paid the toll for them both at tho gate of tha bridge. “Iam so well nequainted with all the rigs and moves of London life, as to be ablo to toll in a moment whether a person coming out of a bank has been to receive moncy, or not, If it’s a gentleman, ho feels at his brecches-pockct to sco that the cash is all safe—or he buttons his coat over his breast which proves that tho notes aro in his waistcoat. If it’s a woman, she gripes her reticulo precious tight —or smoothes down her dress just over whero her pocket is—or elso sottles her shawl over her bosom, when the notes are there. This last was precisely what you did; and therefore, my old tiger-cat, I know that you've got money in the bosom of your dres? as well as if I saw you put it there.” “You’ra quite wrong for onco in your life, Mr. Rily,” said Mrs. Mortimer, trembling at the re- marks which had just fallen upon her cars. “Then why docs your arm shako so as it hangs in mine?” demanded the Doctor, with an impertur- bability which frightoned the old woman more than if ho had actually used threats: for, lttle%s sho had scen of him, sho was well cnough acqRainted with his character to porecive that ho was' Acditat- ing mischief. ———————-—— (C(O) (C DOO <S LL (SO)