The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES. rifying reminiscence shot through her brain that she was now alone in the sepulchre of her murdered victim,— and, as the light was rapidly disappearing, ale rushed forth from the back kitchen with a shriek of mortal agony. - At the same moment Frederick Dray, having reco- vered his presence of mind, emerged from the pantry ; and the wretched woman, sin beneath the weight of accumulating misfortunes, threw herself into his arms and fainted. The next instant the light disap- peared and tota] darkness prevailed in that place ;— for Mobbs had already gained the top of the stair- case leading to the ground-floor—and he had taken the candle with him! The shrieks continued: he paused for a moment to listen—and his quick ear informed him that they came from premises behind those where he now was. A passage leading in that direction met his view— and he rushed along it, shading the light with his hand in order to protect it from the current of air which his rapid progress created. A door barred his way—but it opened to his touch; and, entering an- other passage, he instantaneously perceived that he had thus forced his way into the house which was at the back of Mrs. Brace’s, but the front of which he knew must look upon St. James’s Square. The dis- covery that the two dwellings thus communicated, excited his curiosity, thereby forming an additional impulse to urge him on. At the end of this second passage a door opened into a hall lighted by a lamo, and wherea footman was seated in a lounging posture, his whole aspect and manner denoting the inost supreme indifference to the sounds of anguish which still came with piercing note from above. “ Holloa! whe are you, and what the devil do you want?” cried the footman, now starting to his feet as Mobbs rushed into the hall, followed by his “Don’t you hear that row, you cursed sleepy feolt’”’ demanded the ex-constable savagely ;—and, without pausing to hear the flunkey’s reply, he sprang up the handsomely-carpetted and well-lighted stair- case,—the mongrel keeping close at his heels. Suddenly the shrieking ceased — but not before the keen and experienced ear of Mobbs had cauzht the direction whence it came;—and, guided by that clue, he unhesitatingly burst open the door facing the head of the staircase. “Damnation! what means this intrusion?” de- manded a fine, tall, portly man dressed in a Turkish Costume, and who held in his arms the senseless form of a lovely creature attired in the picturesque garb of a Flower Girl. “ Why, that rape and ravishment and all kinds of things are going on here,” said Mobbs;—“ and it’s my dooty to perwent them,” he added, still forget- ting that he was no longer a peace-officer, but obey- ing the impulse of those habits which had become second nature. Then, as he thus spoke, he flung aside the candle which he had brought with him, and seizing the Prince of Wales with his right hand, he swung him completely round, while with his left arm he tore the senseless Pauline from the royal voluptuary’s embrace. At the same moment the dog, naturally regarding the Prince as some enemy of his master’s and there- fore deeming it right and proper to take a due share iQ the proceedings, flew at the royal legs and began SuApping aud barking ia a moat disrespectful manner ! ee atthe heels and ankles of the heir-apparent to the British throne! “Call off your cur, you damned rascal!” cried the Prince, exasperated almost to madness, as ho danced about to avoid the teeth of the annoying mongrel. “Do you hear me, sir?—call off your dog! By the living God——But perhaps you de not know who I am ?” “ Some swell-mob scoundrel dressed up in mas- querade toggery,” said Mobbs, who at that moment was conveying Pauline Clarendon to a sofa—the disturbance having startled her from the deep swoon into which she had fallen. But springing to her feet, the beauteous maiden threw a rapid glance around; and finding herself freed from the odious embraces of her royal tor- mentor, she paused not to reflect how she had been delivered nor even to thank her deliverer ;—but, obedient to the impulse of the terrors consequent on the startling manner in which she had been awakened, she darted from the room. “Stop her! stop her, I command you!” cried the Prince of Wales, no longer able to control either his words or his actions: and he rushed after the flying dameel. “At him, Toby!” ejaculated Mobbs;—and in a | moment the teeth of the dog were fixed in the heire apparent’s right leg. And the heir-apparent,—Oh! crowning ignominy ! roared most lustily, while Pauline Clarendon, snatching up her cloak on the landing, bounded along—descended the stairs half-a-dozen at a time —and, opening the front door, rushed from the house. For the hall was empty, the footman whom Mobbs had encountered there, having hastened into the other house to alarm Mrs. Brace with the intel- ligence that a rough-looking fellow with a mongrel dog had invaded the sanctity of that portion of the establishment which was cevoted to “fashionable accommodation.” In the meantime Mobbs had called off hia dog; and the Prince of Wales, throwing himself ex- hausted and bleeding upon a sofa, was about to overwhelm the ex-constable with the astounding re- velation of his name and rank, when even through the turmoil’ of his enraged feelings flashed (like lightning through the stormiest clouds) the convioc- tion that he would only be covering himself with ridicule and enhancing his humiliation to the exe tremest verge were he to inform that sordid-looking, coarse, and ungainly ruffian who he really was. “Ah! it’s all wery well to lie there kicking u that infernal row,” said Mobbs, who, although he had seen the Prince of Wales more than once in his life, did not recognise him in the masquerading garb; “but you've nobody to thank for all this but yourself, What the devil! are the king’s lieges to be raped and ravished by such disguised mahogany- jumpers as you, in spite of their cries and screams. I shouldn't be doing my dooty as a Bow Street runner——”’ And then Mr. Mobbs suddenly stoppéd short: for . the remembrance flashed to his mind that he was no longer in the service of the peace. “ Ah! you're an officer—are you ?” said his Royal Highness, who, despite the bitter annoyance which he felt and the pain which his lacerated leg was causing” him, nevertheless perceived the imperious necessity of extricating himself as promptly and also. as quietly as he could from the present wat Gene | | ElOOO® SS