The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 206: what you’re looking at

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cending once more to the top ceil, he fixed his new tight-rope apparatus. It anewered the purpose even far better than he had expected ;—and, with roviving spirits, to work the Megsman went egain. The clock struck two as he thus resumed his toils; and he muttered to himeelf, “ If nothing more happens to hinder me, I shall be safe away before that bell speaks again.” ‘Tremendous were the exertions which the Mags- man now made to aceomplish his purpose: the ma- sonry fell about him in large pieces—the dust in- volved him in a dense and palpable cloud, floating amidst the darkness—and the perspiration streamed Jowr. his face as if water had been poured- over his head. At length, immediately after the fall of a stone which had resisted his efforts for several minutes, his crow. bar struck against the lead which covered the flat roof of the gaol ! Then he paused, and listened with the deepest sus- ense. , From this crue] and almost agonising uncerteinty he was speedily released: for three low but perfectly audible knocks upon the jead, convinced him that his friends were there / Again he renewed his toils ;—and every moment the hollow in the ceiling grew larger and larger. Presently the lead was lifted from over the exca- vation—the fresh breeze blew upon his burning features—and as he looked up, he saw a countenance vending down over the hole thus formed. “ All right, Mr. Warren—there's nothing to ap- prehend !” were the reassuring worde that met his ears, and which were uttered in the well-known voice of the Kincbin- Grand. A few minutes’ more labour sufficed to widen the aperture sufficiently to enable the strong arms of the Kinchin-Grand and two powerful men who were also with him, to drag Joe Warren up through the hole; —and he now stood upon the leads of Newgate! A rope, which had been fastened to the chimuey of Mr. Shrubsole’s house, enabled the escaped felen and his three frienda to gain the roof of that dwell- ing, into which they entered by means of a garret window. \ “ Now you can refresh yourself with a drop of somethink short,” said the Kinchin-Grand. The Magsman instinctively thrust out his hand in the dark, and grasped the case-bottle which his faithful and considerate friend thus tendered him. Long and deep was Joe Warren's draught; and never, never in all his life had the ardent alcoho) seemed so welcome, so good, and so invigorating. “You have this night done a thing that'll immor- talise you,” said the Kinchin-Grand, inspired with a sentiment of profound admiration for the daring feat which the Magsman had so triumphantly achieved and which had thus enabled him to escape from the strongest prison in all England. “Well, I don’t think it was a bad night’s work, young fellow,” returned the Magsman. “ But who are your two friends, that [ may thank them for the service they have done in helping you in this mat- ter?—for it was too dark on the leads to catch a glimpee of their features—and here it’s darker still.” “I suppose that the names of Dick the Tramoer end Miles the Buzgloak ain’t unbeknown to yuu, ting were eaid the Kinehin- Grand, with a chuck- ing laugh. “T eheuld rather think net!” exclaimed the Mags- MYSTERIES. 195 man, evidently delighted to be in such good company “Tip us your mawley, Dick my boy—now, Milea, give us your hand—and thank you both kindly for this night’s assistance.” “It was easy work so far as we was concerned, after all,” abserved the Tramper, who spoke in a thick, husky tone, which was natural to him. “ And had it been ten times as difficult, we'd have done it for you, old feller,” added Miles the Bus- gloak. “Lord bless ye! what a lark it was,” exclaimed the Kinchin-Grand, having drained the flask which he had passed round. “ Fust, when we doubie-knocked at the door, crack went a pitch-plaster over the mouth of the old woman as opened it—and she was pinioned in a jifley. Then we stayed as still as death —and up comed a tall genelman, whom we sarved just the same. Then comed the boy—and smack goes the Burgundy plaster again. Last of all old Shrubsole makes his appearance ——” “Well, we musn’t stay chattering here,” inter- rupted the Mageman, somewhat impatiently “ Where's Lizzy Marks ?” “ Keeping guard on the people of the house down in the kitchen,” replied the precocious captain of the . Kinchin-Prigs. “We carried 'em all down there, and took off the pitch-plasters from the three as had ’em dabbed on their faces; and your missus is a-keepin’ them quiet with loaded pistols. But come along down staire—and we'll call her up.” The villains aceordingly descended the several flights lealing to the passage communicating with the front door; and the Kiuchin-Grand hurried down into the lower regione to communicate to the Gallows’ Widow the welcome intelligence of her flash man’s safety. But she had already heard the sounds of the heavy footsteps on the stairs; and rushing from the kitchen, she hastily gave the pistols to the Kinchin-Grand whom she met on her way, and a moment afterwards was hugging the Magsman with the most un(eigned sincerity. When this transport of feeling was over—a feeling which even that criminal and degraded woman could experience as well as the Duchess clothed in silks and satins,—the Gallows’ Widow recovered all her wonted calmness and self-possession. “You must go out alone first—we'll follow in an hour,” she said. “ Yee—you must have a full hour,” she continued, in a low and rapid whisper, “before we leave this house or allow the people in it a chance of freeing themselves from the cords that bind them, Here—I bave provided you a large slouched hat—a cloak—and a thick shawl-bandkerchief to tie round your neck.” And as ske thus spoke, the worn@m took the various artieles enumerated from a bag which in the mean- time had been lying on the floor in the passage. The Magsman speedily put on the disguise so con- siderately provided; then having taken leave of Dick the Tramper and Miles the Buggloak, and having whispered two or three words in the ears of the Gallows’ Widow, he issued from the house. 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