The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 7 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

a i ES ee Se ee. ee 72 jupplied bread and cheese; and the Duke bade hira bring the food into the servants’ hall, Then his Grace showed him where to draw @ jug of atrong ale, and bade him sit down and eat. The man most reddily and joyously obeyed: he placed himself at the table, and commenced a.mighty in- road on the sirloin,—prefacing it however with a deep draught of the old October ale. The Duke sate down at a little distance; and without ap- pearing to look towards his etrange guest, was nevertheless contemplating him furtively the whole time. “It’s werry kind, my lord,” said the man, “for a great nobleman like yourself to take such oom- fassion on a poor hard-working feller which has had no work to do fon the last month———" “Eat and drink,” interrupted Marchmont ; “and give me your thankeafterwards. Do not be afraid of making inroads on the pro + there is more meat in the larder, and there is more ale in the vncouraged, _ Tig enco ‘looking guest renewed his assault on the siricin, and paid his te & the ale. He ate with the voracity of one hap been foodless for many, many long hours—as indeed the case. At length he laid down his knife and fork, and drained the jug. “Now,” said the Duke, “replenish that jug— for I mus¢ have some little discourse with you. I have already given you the assurance that I do not things by halves; and I must see if I can be of service to you for the future.” The man lost no time in refilling the jug from the barrel of old October; and returning to his seat, he nodded with a sort of respectful femi- Harity to the Duke, saying, “ Here's wishing your aso a a eed and ‘appinest and my years to enjoy them thinge which you ws on a poor honest Christien like myself.” The Duke made no his seat, shut the door of eorvanta’ hall; and then returning to bis chair, he said, “ We must now have a ‘few minutes’ discourse.” There. was pomething in the Duke of March- mont’s a —eomething which seemed altered in his manner, thet Che ill-looking guest did not altogether like. He looked around hin— Bdgetted on his chair for a moment—appeared in- clined to take up his club, which lay near his bat- tered hat at his feet-—then = furtive glance at the Duke again—and then recourse to the ale jug, as if thence to derive [fortitude and en- t. When he deposi/ed it on the table again, he perceived that the Duke was regarding him in a peculiar manner. “Do'not be afraid,” ssid Marchmont ; “ and do not start nor grow excited—much less attempt any violence—I mean you no harm—but in a word, | know who you are !'’« The fellow did start despite the injunction to the contrary; and again be madd « motion as if to snatch up bis club: bat the Duke, instan- taneously displaying « pistol, said, “ Look! you are at my mercy. But be quiet——TI tell you agsin that I will do you no harm. In e word, you can serve me.” “Ah! that’s different,” exclaimed the fellow. “T always like to hear that my services is pooded —oos why, it shows that everything is square and weuve hoard.” THE MYSTEREIES OF THB COUR.. “Yea~—I know you,” continued the Duke: “I recognised you within a few instants after our en-. counter ; and therefore you may judge whether I mean you & mischiet, considering the way in which I have treated you. Your name is Barnes~and you are known asthe Borker.” . _ “Well, my lerd, I don’t deny them’s my names, titles, and distinctions; and if so be they ain't quite so high and mighty as your own, they're all werry well in their own way. I como of a werry respectable family, my lord: most of my ancestors was great public characters, and went out of the world befure the public gaze amidst werry great applause. I’m rayther proud on ‘em, though I saye it which shouldn’t say it.” Now that you have done this long tirade,” said the Duke of Marchmont, “perhaps you will listen to me.” “Bat first of all, my lord,” interrupted the Burker, “ perhaps you will have the gooduess to tell me how it was you recognised me. I know that I’m a genelman of much renown, and that people in certain quarters makes theirselves uu- common busy in looking arter me and prying into my consérns.” “A few words of explanation will suffice,” re- sponded the Duke, cutting short that garrulity which received its inspiration from the strength of the October ale. “There have been accurate per- apnal descriptions given of you in newspaper- advertisements, placards, and handbillsa——” “Ab! my lord, see what poppilarity is!” said the Burker: and he again had recourse to the ale jug. We may here pause for an instant to explain that the Duke of Marchmont had at the time, for reasons known to the reader, taken a great interest in the trial of Lettice Rudney: he had thorelore closely watched the newspapers in order to see whether anything trauspired relative to Madame Angelique’s establishment, or showed that there had been a connexion in euy sort of way between Lettice Rodney and himeelf. Thus was it that the Duke had been ied to read the personal description that was given of the Burker, when the result of the trial proved that he, Mrs. Webber, and another were the actual murderers of the Liverpool lawyer. The Duke had since thought more than once that Barney the Burker was an instrument for whom he could find employment: and thus wads it that the description of the ruffian had re- mained“so faithfully impressed upon his memory- Infinitely disgusted was his Grace new with the coaree flippant familiarity which the Burker dis- played ander the influence of the ale: for reflaoed villany loathes vuiger villany, although there may be no shade of diffurence between the actual crimi- pality of either, and although the former may con- descend or feel iteclf necessitated to make dse of the latter. But Marchmont did not choose to as- sume an overbearing manner, nor to betray bis dis- gust too visibly to the ruffian whose services he was: now resolved to put into requisition. “T can well understand,” be said, “ how it is that you are a houscless wanderer and that your condition is so deplorable. There is a reward set upon your head; and your predicament is more then ever perilous after your most recent exploite with the police-officers at the house some where-in the southern side of London. Now, if I were t 6 EE ee SS (CO) COLUM LOAO©