The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 381: what you’re looking at

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nS A CS SS SD Sd 870 ef —————EEEEE>EE==E>E——E_ J am prepared at length to hear all and everything you may have to relate.” “You are the best judge of your own nerves, after all,”- said Melmoth, resuming his seat. “ Listen, then—and interrupt me as little as pos- sible; because I easily lose the thread of my narrative, as my brain is not always as clear and collected as I could wish. Well, then, yom.re- member that night on which you and I was: p into the boat at Woolwich and taken. off*ts t Diana as she lay at anchor. I managed to get: my chains — and, watching the opportunity, I plunged into the river. Down, down,. usder the ship's bottom I dived—all my wits ahasime—my memory as keen and my mental. pessepéiam as. clear while thus engulfed, as evem mag: faculties were strong and lucid in the soberest: amdiealmess moments of my life. I swam under the shigin the lengthways’ direction in which she lag, and emerged close by her helm. There I remained clinging to the chains of the rudder fr afew minutes, while the hubbub caused by:my:ftelia lasted. Lights were hung over — and 1 dived again: then boats were put out—and I dedged about the stern of the ship for upwarde:of a quarter of an hour —-sometimes under the water, and sometimes with only just my headvebane it. At length I swam. cantiously and quiatiy: away— diving incessantly until I reached the Zasem shore, about two hundred yards farther down them where the vessel lay. I landedand walked alongéhe bank for upwards of an. hour; till at last, inthe utter darkness of the night, [ fell into a deep: muddy ditch. Thenve I had the greatest tnenhiato extri. cate myself: and being covered: with alias, I was- forced to plunge into the river to. cleanse myszeif.: I suppose that my head musé.hase struck: against something—for I became inzensibles and: when I recovered myself, I was in a hut ao the village of Gray’s Thurlook, several miles farther down: the river than where I had taken the path thateo nearly proved fatal to me. An old waterman had picked me up as I was floating down with the tide: a glimpse of moonlight upon the watie had shown him my countenance as I lay senseless on. my back. On getting me ashore, he found that life was not extinct; and being a humane man (as most poor people are, by way of set-off to the hard- hearted aristocracy) he conveyed me to his hut, where he and his wife attended upon me. I re- covered in a few hours: tat for several days I was unable to rise from the-humble pallet on which I lay stretched.. At length I grew strong enough to get up; and not choosing to remain a burthen to my good friends—anxivus moreover to see my wife and dear, dear children—lI said I should leave them. The report of my escape off Woolwich had reached Gray's Thuriock, as a matter of course; and the old waterman suspected that I was the individual. He spoke kindJy to me upon the subject—and | told him everything. Then he became a true friend toa: me~—bestowing upon me a guit of sailor’s cloth- ing as a disguise, und giving me a few shillings to see my way clear with. -I returned to London: Oh! how my heart beat—how every pulse thrilled with the fervid, joyous hope of embracing my be- loved wife and little ones again. Heedless of the risk I incurred of being recognised by any hostile person who might give information to the Govern- find my family. Heavens! how long the street seemed from the corner to the house—what an age it appeared before my knock at the door was an- swered! To clasp my wife in my arms—to embrace my little ones—to see poor baby’s innocent face again—Ah! that wauld be a reward for all I had sufiared! The door opened—and the landlady ap- pemed:ea.thethreshold. She was frightened when she sxwuse—she guessed that I had escaped—and she was afraid of getting into trouble by even speak- }}ing tome. Ebeheld all the embarrassment of her manner—aadi:my heart sank within me. I ap- prebendéa something dreadful: nor was I deceived imtthat harrowing presentiment. My family had been compelled:to leave their lodging—in plain terms, they had been ejected! I restrained my fury while I put some questions to the landlady: she was frightened at me and beseught me to de- part, hinting that the Governmentofficials might observe and aramstme. I saw: thatif 1 gave way to violence I shenidveniy invoke arenewal of the persecution whence: Eihad eseaped; and I aceord- . ingly maintained's foread-esmaposure. But this was all on a sudden interrupéedriy an outburst of bitter weeping—for my fealiags:ererpowered me. Even the landlady, wretstiasehewas, seemed moved ; and by way of consdiingner perhaps of appeasing me, she volunteeredthesassurance that éfany stranger called to inqyias affer me, she would:nat say that I had been thames: As for my wife and.family, the woman knew not where they had.gone; and I de- parted from her presence in a state of. mind which no culprit about. to aseead the scafféld need have envied,:’ “Poor man! seid Tim Meagies, profoundly touched. “As for the. landlady, she kept her promise to you, harahiy Ghougii.she might have behaved: to. your: wift-and:ohitiren: for Miss Rose Foater has sent te:males freqpentrinquiries at your ald} —and'the servants who called there om: her behalf neve; uid glean any intelligence with regard to you.” “For this reason, then,” observed Melmoth, Ja- conically, “I will spare her. Otherwise I had in- tended to immolate her amongst the rest of my enemies. Oh! you may gaze upon me with horri- fied looks, Mr. Meaglea: but you have tremen- dous things to hear ero we separate! However— to resume the thread of my story—I was telling you that I took my departure from the landlady’s abode in a condition Of mind not to be envied by any living being—no, not even by the most gro- velling wretch that crawls upon the face of the earth, nor by the condemned felon who looks Death face to face! Oh! my pour wife—my dearly beloved children! whither had ye gone?— wherefore was I thus deprived of your love, your solace ?—-why were we not permitted to meet and mingle our tears? But I saw it all: I compre- hended the villany that had been perpetrated. It was quite clear that the money which I had sent from Woolwich along with the letter, had never reached them :—it had doubtless been kept by the villanous peace-officer—and they. were turned into the streets. O God! how bitter, how diabolical, how. fiendish was the curse that rose up in my soul at that moment,—a curse menacing the whole framework of society with ruin, blood, murder, and vengeance,—such a curse, in fine, as a desperate man might be expected to vent upon a world that a a IE: Pe ee. Camm = { ment, I hurried to thé lodgings where I hoped te ire ail Bd ElOOO® SS