The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 4 — page 236: what you’re looking at

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

, THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. syllable to any one !!’ as he spoke. “ Mum’s the word, sir,” rejoined Daniel Coffin. “T alwats keep secrets as close as wax.” Theodore Varian then took hfs departure, leav- ing the Hangman and Dick Mglmoth to chuckle over the lucrative jub they appeared to have in hand, and cc&gratulate themselves on the prospect of clearing a couple of thousand guineas in o very | short space of time. The reader could not have experienced any dif- | fieulty iu penctrating Varian’s object throughout the preceding interview with Coffin and his assist- ant. From the moment that the conversation in he added, rising from his seat * 223 es et Oe ra Tp ‘But the next moment the whisperiags of hope would remind him that meno had eseaped from Newyate on various occasions; and however des- perate and daring their exploits might hay been, he was prepared to act as desperately and dannyly in his own behalf. Besides, who could tell whist schemes Daniel Coffin might suggest—what ope portunities he might find for smvothing down diffi- - culties—and what bold conception he might ini- tiate so as to lead to the fullest success ? Such is a brief outline of the conflicting thourhts. which ayvitated in Emmerson’s brain thoughout the greater portion of the nicht, and made him toss, and heave, aad roll, and writhe, and con- the shop first took @turn that promised to becume,| vulse, aud clasp his hands, and press them to his interesting and confidential, Variaws aim was to ascertain whether Emnyersou was buoyed up with inviting any confidential communication. | throbbing brows—in fact, that whirled hin through every pussible phase of the heart's most any particular hope; and if so, what itg ua- | potent feelings as he lay on the hard pallet in his ture might be, By pretending to be the doomed | gloomy cell. Fora few brief iutervals an unea-y man’s friend, it not only seemed natural enough ; slumber crept upon him ® But on each occasion that he should be taking an interest in his predi-!he woke up with a sudden start~—pursued even cament, but it likewise was the best method of into wakefulness by some horribie phantom that In all | had haunted his temporary sleep. Or he would now only remained for him to frustrate the plan: bling all over with a strong agony—bathed in a | | | this, then, had Theodore fully succeedel; and it | perhaps find himself sitting up iu the bed, trem- | | aod annihilate the hope. CHAPTER CLEVII. » {HE “RESULT. An almost sleepless night did Emmerson pass : for he was now tortured with a thousand anxieties relative to the success of the schemes that were in progress. for his geliverance from the scaffold. Though hope was certainly uppermost in bis mind, yet he could not any longer lull him-eif into that dreaminess which had heretofore soothed him for so many hours at a time. No—fovr his , dmapiuation suggested many, many sources of | alarm and uneasiness that agitated in his mind, | along with the hope, which, though niaintaining the ascendancy, was not powerful enough to ex- tinguish every militatingfecling altogether. What if any accident should happen to the money ? Everything depeuded upon the safety of that gold which was to prove the key of his de- liverance. ° He wished that he had asked his Wife where she kept it~-whether in a cupboard or in a trunk— and whether she earried the key th her pocket when she went out? Then he feared lest Daniel Coffin should strive to possess himself of the money without the intention of doing his work for it. Next he asked himself over and over again how the escape was to be effected, supposing that all was right with the money, and that Coffiu proved faithful to his agreement? For when Em- merson thought of the tremendous massive walls, which enclosed him as it were in a living tomb— the other walls equally impregnable that lay be- tween his own cell and the open street—the euor- mous bars that grated the windows—-the numbers of persons always about during tho day in every part of the prison—and the careful watch which he koew fall weli was kept by night,—-when, we say, he thought of all these things, he beield so many insuperable barriers between himself and freedgin, that be almost grew wild with horror and affrig. t, Sc me, a ee A se, GR ed ee pene SE ae Ane ee ae profuse perspiration, cold and clammy as that of death—-with the feeliny, tov, that his hair was stand- log right out as it were from his head. {0 this man- ner—between conflicting thoughts and brief in- tervals of fevered slumber—did Kmmerson pass the live-long night. Although it was now the begiouing of the mouth of June, yet dull and misty broke the morning into the condemned cell—penetrating thither indeed with a hesitating, struggling uncertainty, much later than it had dawned upon the world without ; for the windows of the cell were sinall, darkenet with the magssiva bars, and not looking into one of the yards, but upon an obscure corridor in’o which the light had to struggle first, ere it pene- trated nrore feebly still into the dungeou. The weather was exceedingly cold, too, for the time of year: and Emmerson shivered from head to foot as he roso from the pallet. is testh chattered— he was nervous and uneasy—and he felt that if the slirhjest circumstance should occur to damp his only hope, his courage—such as it was In its un- natural bracing-up—would give way altogether. It wanted an hour to the usuil time of Dick Mamoth’s arrival. An hour—oh! what a long weary interval of excruciating suspense! If the idJer, the debaucher, aud the dissipated only knew ghat a world of fecimg may be summed up in a single hour—how uch of torturing agony may be condensed into that space—they would learn the importance of time and the value of each of those many, many hours which they waste in worthless, bad, or frivolous pursuits ! At length the well-known tread of the turnkey, accompanied by the clanking sound of the keys alung* the stone corridor, reached Emmerson’s ears. It would be impogsible to describe the ferel- ing which now »eized upon him —a feeling in which all the most powerfal sentiments were strangely, wildly, and terribly blended,—burning hope and chilling dread—a devouring anxiety to reccive the first lovk or word from Melmoth tht should re- lieve him from suspenne—and a fearful clinging even to this very suspense, lest certainty itself should become the horror of despair! ead “ _— aa n tgts ORE Ee ee ape Re ee a aS ae ee Egy Smeg wafer cee a aI te A TET II AE tal TT DET TT I TCT NT aT GE LTE POE EL LRN a TT OE A CONIC OO ( 7 <S