The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 380: what you’re looking at

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| THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. dog features; and he exclaimed, “ I tell you: what it is, my old friend—-I know I'm not so ‘ansome as some people is; but I'm s deuced sight better : for try me at hard work, or question me as to my morals, or anythink of that sort, and you'll just eco what an admirable feller I am.” “I was not thinking of your personal appear- ” replied the old eexton: “ but I wish you would get off that coffin and go and sit down “To be eurel” exclaimed the Burker, obeying with alacrity: and then bethinking himeelf of the sexton’s brandy-flask, he gave a visible shudder,— ing, “It’s uncommon cold notwithstanding the season of the year.” '“ Refresh yourself,” said Jonathan; and he handed the flask. “Your wery good health, sir—and here’s wish- ing you e long life and e merry von,” said Mr. Barnes, by way of complimentary preface to a somewhat application to the contents of the fiask. “A merry lifel” exclaimed old Jonathan: “ how can you telk in such a light strain? What ean the merriment be for one who has all his days been accustomed to dwell amongst the dead, eo that the gloom of vaults and sepulchres and the damp of graves have become habitual to him ? Bat you were saying just now that you were the man who would become my assistant——"’ “ And an uncommon handy feller you'll find me, I can teil you,” rejoined the Burker. “ But how is it I find you in this here place at such an hour of the night P I don’t say it isn’t agreeable enough—TI like it uncommon—it’s quite e change -and wariety is charming.” “ This vault,” answered old Jonathan solemnly, “belongs to the Featheretones of Featherstone Hail. It’s a very old family—and all these coffins ; 371 of s ing to the office of grave-digger at his (Jonathan's) death. The Burker accepted the proffered terms; and the bargain was sealed with another drain from the brandy- flask. “ And now, my good man,” said Jonathan, “as you are doubtless weary and hungered, I will take you to my cottage where you can refresh and re- pose yourself for to-night; and to-morrow I can perhaps help you to a cheap lodging with some humble but respectable people.” “I’ve already took such an affection for you, sir,” answered the Burker, “that if you’ve only got some old shed or out-house belonging to your place, I would make myself as happy and comfort- able asa king. I could turn my hand to a thou- sand little odd jobe——” “Well, well, we shall see abont it,” replied the sexton. “Meantime follow me.” They issued from the vault, and passed out of the church,—Jonathan having previously extin- guished his lantern. He locked the door with a huge key; and striking into a narrow path, led the way through the churchyard. The Burker was not particular in keeping to the path; but he now and then trampled over the graves,—which being presently perceived by the old man, caused him suddenly to stop short. “You must not set foot upon any one of these sacred hillocks,” he said, with his wonted gravity : “and for two reasons. In the first place because it’s desecration; and in the second place because there are certain families—aye, even amongst the poorest—who pay a trifle annually to have the graves of their deceased relatives kept in good order——Not but that I devote my care to those for which no fee is paid———And here, for in- stance,” added the old man, again stopping short after having slowly walked on a few paces,—“here is the best kept grave in the whole place: and yet that you see around, contain ecions of that race.!I have never received a farthing for attending Another—a promising young man as ever you | to it.” could wish to see—died a few days ago; and he He pointed to a grave which had a stone at will be buried here to-merrow. There was a mar-|ite head; and in the beautiful clearness of the riage in the church this morning—and I could | night, it was easy for the Burker to perceive that mot find it in my heart to raise the stone of this | it was indeed well kept,—the turf being all smooth vault till the evening-———” “And you don’t mean to say you did it by your- self?’ exclaimed the Burker. « No—I bad an assiatant in the task,” rejoined | over the hillock, and brambles stretched across to | prevent any intrusive sheep from nibbling at the grass. “Look! ‘You perceive ghere is no name upon Jonathan: “but the instant it was over, he burried | that stone,” said the sexton,—“ nothing but the away, frightened at the gloom of the building | date of the deceased’s death when onee the duek had set in. You see that I October, 1830.” “And why is there no name?” asked the am not frightened: I came and sate myself down | Burker. here to determine where the coffin should be put ‘Because the name which the poor deceased to-morrow——and now you know how it is that | lady posseased, was never known,” replied Jonathan oa find me in such a place at such an hour.” Carnabie. “She was a stranger—and she died “If I was your assiatant,” remarked the Burker, | mad——Yes, it was a deep, silent, brooding mad- “* imetead of running away the moment work was; ness——But it is a sad tale, and I canuot tell it over, I should like to come down into these here | you now.” and have a chat—more partikler when ‘“ Who died mad ? who died in the midst of a aces Paos’s the brandy-flask to keep the cold out of | degp, brooding madness ?” exclaimed a wild voice one’a throat.” suddenly breaking in upon the momentary silence, Jonathan Carnabie deliberated with himself for | which followed the old sexton’s remark ; and at the m= few minutes; and having decided upon engaging | same time a female, having the appearance of a the services of the man who had so singularly | crased gipsy, appeared upon the spot as if she offered himself, he proceeded to specify the duties had arisen out of the earth or sprung up from be- which an assistant would have to perform, as well | hind one of the adjacent tombstones. “ Who died as the present emoluments which he would receive,| mad, I ask you?” she repeated vehemently. ~—observing as an additional inducement, that if| “There are indeed sorrows in this world sufficient «Barney conducted himself well he might be certain | to turn the strongest brain—and I have seen those ‘ RL (COL (C DOO CS (COL