The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 7 — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

a Terie care ccm memati a THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. “Well-—-I won't say a word~don’t be afraid— but for heaven’s sake go!” said Mr. Fossilton imploringly “ Gol and I will forget that you have ever been here—that I have ever seen you. But if this isn’t the last time that I bargain for mummies——” “To be sure! You'll know a trick worth two of that,” cjaculated the Burker, with a chuckling laugh. “Now just let me ait down and write a bit of a nute—and then I'll take myself off.” Fhe miserable archeologist pointed to a table on which there were writing materials: the Burker coolly seated himeelf, and proceeded to commit a fow lines tu paper. Though the billot was short, yet the process of writing it was somewhat a tedious onc, inasmuch as Barney was a very indifferent penman; and thus, during tho ten minutes he was engaged with his correspondence, Mr. Fossilton sate in a perfect agony of dread and horror. To be there with a murderer—thore with one who might suddenly turn round and murder him--the thought was hideous! The poor archemologist’s brain was in a perfect whirl; and he bitterly repented his dealings with Mr. Bealby. But the Burker really had no intention of harming the old man : he saw that it was easy to intimidate him, and that tho effect of this intimidation would not speedily wear off. ° The note was concluded: it was folded up— soaled—and duly addressed to the personage for whom it was intended; and the Burker seoured it about his person. Then rising from his seat, he surveyed himeelf in a looking-glass; and he felt convinced that his present disguise of a Lascar was, if anything, more perfect than even that of a Jow which he had so recently worn. “ Now, you understand, old genolman,” he said, turning towards the archeologist, “the conditions on which we separate. You hold your tongue | abont mo—and I shall hold my tongue about you. | buf so be you take any stcp to put the police on, may track, I'll tell such a pack’ of lies when ‘| -t.ougif® up before the beak, @8“shall get you | lagged—that’s transported, I mgan——for har- bouring a chap in my position. So now you know. Is it a bargain—or is it not P” “[t is! it is!” rephed the trembling archey- ologist. “Heaven knows [ want to wash my hands of this business! There, there, my good man——not my good man——my map, I mean anything you like to call yourself———there’s a five pound note for you-—and pray take yourself off!” “Thank’ee kindly, sir,” responded the Burker, who beheld in this little incident an additional proof of Mr. Fussilton’s utter timidity and of his anxiety to hush up the matter as svon as possible. “ Good bye, sir.” Thereupon the Burker unlocked the door, issued from the roum, lot himself out by the side entrance, -and gained the street. CHAPTER CXIxXx. RESPECTABILITY. Tag scene now shifts to a very elegant suburban residence on Brixten Hill. It was a villa—not | 3d 175 ema rep ~g vory spacious, but genteel in its exterior—cammo- dious and beautifully appointed internally. It stood in the midst of a well laid-out garden, in which there were hot-houses and conacrvatories: while the occupation of a groom who was engaged in washing ‘& handsome carriage of tho descrip- tion known as a clarence, seemed to proclaim that the occupant of the villa must be in very eacy cir- cumstances. And such was the case: for this beautiful suburban residence was the oue to which Madame Angelique had retired about a week back, after having brokeéh up her establishment in ono of the fashionable quarters of London. It was about the hour of noon—and Madams Angelique was reclining upon the sofa in®a beautifully furnished parlour, with a number of French newspapers and Fashion-books scattered around her. She was dressed in an elegant dishabillée, which however would havo rather be- come a young lady of between twenty and thirty than au elderly dame of about fifty. But thon she wore it with such an cxquisite Parisian coquetry—and tho beautiful French cap so com- pletely concealed the false front which Madame Angelique worg—the rouge and the pearl-powder, toc, were so artistically Jaid on—the brilliant set of teeth looked so perfectly natural, and did such infinite credit to tHe Parisian dentist who made them,—that Madame Angelique might certainly havo passed hersolf off as being ten years younger than she really was. A loud knock at tho door presently made her lay asido the French Fashion-book which she was reading at the moment: for though she had given up her trade of milliner, together with the more questionable one which sho had conjvuintly carricd on,—yet she continued to expericnce a_ lively curiosity in everything which regarded the néwest modes for ladies’ apparel. The window of the parlour in which she gas scated, commanded o view of the projecting portico of her villa. residence: so she ruse from her scat, and just peeped between the muslin curtains to ée8 who the vigitor might be. “Shadbolt!” shg half-ejaculated; and an ex- pression of annoyance flitted over her ccunte- nance. “This man will prove an extortioner,” she continugd, musing to herself: “T see that he will—if I let bim. But I must extricate myself from his clutchos. Nevertheless, the fellow has hitherto been useful-——” At this rnoment the parlour door was thrown open; and a neatly attired, coquetish-looking fomale-servant, with very pretty features, duly an- nounced Mr. Shadbolt. This individual was dressed in what both himself and his tailor meant to be the very extrgmo of fashion: but the natural vulgarity of the min marred all tho effect which exquisitely cut garments would otherwise have produced. Ie wore p profusion of jewellery: in- deed it would secm asdf he had studied every possible means of crowding gold chains and other trinkets about his person. He affected a haif- rakish, half-jaunty air, gs if he were perfectly satisfied with the style in'which he was thus play- ing—or shal we say aping the West End gentlo- man P “Well, my dear madam,” ho sail, throwing himsclf upon the sofa, near the retired milliner, “how do you get on in your new abodo f” ———D ah — ———= Cesta op nw = ee ea & we, Bees ae «= eee a —— — LS AL Na es ee oe ee oe ee SS es Se AY ieee — OE teeta te COLUM LOAO© SS (CO)