The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 7 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

something sinister, if not actually repulsive, in her looke. She aided her daughter in the household work, and eapecially attended upon the lodger who occupied the apartments on the first floor. It was rumoured that Mra. Webber—for that was the old woman’s name possessed some little means of her own; and this opinion appeared to be confirmed fram the fact that the Smedleys were tolerably comfortable in their ciroumstances, and lived in a better style than cither the gold-beating avocation or tifat of letting a portion of their house to a lodger, could possibly warrant. In- deed, John Smedley did not appear to be over- burdened with work: for he was often sauntering about the neighbourhood, either for his recreation or elso to Gistribute tracts amongst those whem he denominated his “benighted brethren aud sisters.” As for Mra. Smediey and the mother they seldom stirred out of the house, except on a Sunday, when they somotimes accompanied the gold-beater to chapel: but they were not by any means 40 regular in their attendance as he himself WAR. The ill-favoured man whom we introduced at the beginning of this chapter, was named Barnes —but was more familiarly called Barney by his intimates; and sometimes be was spoken of, though never addressed to his face, as Barnoy the Burker ; —it having been suspected that some years pre- viously to the time of which we are writing, he “had been connected with the diabolical gang whose wholesale murdérs produced consternation through- out the country. But as we have just hinted, it was by no means safe to throw out the imputa- tion to Barnes’s face: for the savage vindictive- ness of his character and his implacable ferocity would have at once prompted him to inflict a terrible chastisement on whomeoever ho might regard as giving him offence. Relaxing his pace, as we have said, when he drew sear the gold-beater’s house, he flung his looks hastily around,—evidently to assure himsclf that he was not observed; and then he made a sudden dive under the low arch which led into the alley by the side of the chapel. Thie alley had an opening at the farther extremity, communicating with a small vacant space behind the chapel, and which was separated by a low wall from the yard at the rear of the Smedieys’ house. Over this wall Barney the Burker at once clambered; and flighting in the yard, he without ceremony entered the dwelling by the back door. Though it was dark within, he evidently knew the premiaca weft : for he jramediately began to descend a flight of stepp—and thus reached an underground piace, which being behind the kitchen, might be de- acribed as the scullery. Here a light burnt upon . * small deal table, at which the Smedieys and Mrs. Wabber were seated, with bottles and glasses before them. A massive door on one side com- rounicated’ with a cellar; and svother door led into the front kitchen. It may possibly be wondered wherefore tho Smeileys and the old woman were enjoying them- selves on the present cecasion in 40 damp, gloomy, and dungeon-like a place as the scullery, where there was no grate, and consequently no fire—and this too being the cold winter geason. But they had businese of a particular nature to discuss, aud & particular visitor to receive. They did not there- ‘atone ip THE MISTEREE OF THE COURT. L i “oy ' ' ai 101 . imp,’ 0 tata tenement net teats, sar, os annnan eee fore choose to sit in the parlour, lest paspere-by should peep in through the crevices of shh. Hhit ters, or 4 to listen to what was beitg and as there was an iron grating over d Ped é \ a if lights were burning there, thoy had reasons for avoiding that place. There were odes a tainly other roome in which they might have mete | euch for instance as the back parlour on the grounds floor, which served as John Smodley's workshop: | when he had any work todo: but then there wae the foar of the jodger overhearing anything that waa anid~and thus waa it that the soullery served as the moat convenient part of the houes for the business that was in hand. What this business was will goon transpire: but the reader has already seon that Barney the Burker was the visitor who waa expected. He made his appearance with the air of one who was no etranger—but on the contrary, wae on ex- ceodingly good terme with the gold-beater and the two women. Just nodding familiarly to them all three, ho took a eeat--dropped bis club on one side, and his cap on the other~and then procesded to help himeelf to a stiff glase of gin-and-water. “Well, thie ¢¢ a night for blue ruin, hot and strong,” he said, grinning so as to display his shark-like teeth, and speaking in a voice that was of habitual hoarseness. “It’s uncommon cold— and I wonder you ain’t quaking all over with the shivers in this here well of a place.” “You see, my good fellow,” replied Smedley, “that it answers very well aaa council-room-—-~” “Come, let's to business,’’ interrupted Mrs, Smedley sharply, as she bent a peremptory look upon her husband to ailonce him: for ho waa fond of talking, but she was not fond of listening tc him. “ My dear Bab, don't be so fast upon one,” re- joined Smedley, in a deprecating manner: and here we may observe that his Wife’s name was Barbara, for which Bab was used as a diminu- tive. “Well, what's in the wind now?” asked the Burker. “I got your message, Jack,” be cun- tinued, thus addressing Smedley, “which you sent by Tim Scott thes arternoun———” ° “Ab, Tim Scott is a sharp lad!” interjected the old woman; “and I think he’s indebted to you, Barfey, for his edication.” “Well, ma'am,” roplied the Burker, “TI certainly have done sumimut in that way for Tim Soott. But he don’t come up to his big brother Bill in artful. news—not by nv manner of moans. Howsomever, he'll get on in time; and then let me tell yer there won’t be two such rare fellers in all London as them Scotts— chaps arter my own heart !” “To be sure,” said Mrs. Smedley, with an ap- proving look. “ You require such instruments.” “You're right enow there,” exclaimed the Burker, with a terrible imprecation. “To gets livin’ now-a-days, 8 man ought to have a dosen hands and arms, and them too always at work: apd he vught to have a dozen pair of eyes, to sep which way the wind blows———aye, by jingo! and a dozen pair of legs too, to run away from them pelt; kitchen window, down which anybody might dagk | blue-bottle rascala, or the snonking detestives, when there’s « hue and cry arter him. I tell yer | ° f what it is,—them ae has the power is making the vv country one that sin’t fit to live in, whaé with thar CONC HOOOKS. COR