The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 256: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTRRIES OF TRE COURT. 949 t | | | l | | | Nina 7 ty ‘ oa Sd —_T IN Led | i L Je Le I f " : | bY , r es, 4 . ' i bh f . fi 1 . NY lari with i EL ao ; ra wT Ue i, ia ‘ : x) ia , ‘ if vith y we 7 4, if | a a ‘J ya * . | by! We, fim # ah l | | My i, Ab, y iH | | | : r | i 4 ‘ay eo) le f , 1 |. j High" f ' wigs fa 8 May J - ; | Yin iW 7 “lid } | o* 2 RAs "1. “Two can play at cutting,” eald Tony: “but | and white night-caps, and immense crowds gathered it’s no lie, Chiffin, I can tell you. I shouldn’t be | round; and all the while a deep bell seems to be togged as I am if it wasn’t true; and I shouldn’t | tolling in my ears. That's always when I'm have been such a fool either, to come wandering | asleep; and when I’m awake and wandering about, into London again to see what's to be done, arter | I'm always afeard of being suddenly grabbed by having tramped about in the country for these | anybody I meet. I can’t look no ono in the face weeks past—starving and sleeping ander hedges or | without thinking that he surveys me just as if he haystacke——” was going to say, ‘You are Tony Wilkins the mur- “Tf I thought you was telling me the truth,” | derer.’ So you see, Chiffin, there’s no thanks te observed Chiffin, looking very hard in Tony’s face, | you for leading me into that there business.” “Y think Iyshould perhaps be inclined to forgive| ‘“ Why, what a puling, sneaking, white-livered, you. But I don’t believe a syllable of it.” chicken-hearted chap you are!” growled the Can- “TI tell you what it is, Chiffin,—you may be-/ nibal, with a look of contempt. “I couldn’t have lieve it or not, just as you like; and as for your | believed it!—a feller that was always ready fer forgiveness, I don’t care a rap for it. You led | any kind of business —” me into that precious business in Agar Town; and| ‘“Aye!—but there’s a precious deal of differ- I have never knowed what it was to be easy in | ence,” interrupted Tony Wilkins bitterly, “be- my mind since. If I go to sleep, it’s to dream of | twixt mere prigging and t’other kind of job. I gibbets, end hangmen, and sheriffs, and chaplains, )} was born and bred to prigging, as one may say: No. 84—Tuiep Sens. (CO an (C DOO