The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

Te o@ es all,” alive, Old Block, and bring in the lush.” The landlord’ mission, he sounded each coin on the table :—then, quite satisfied with the result of a process which was doubtless very xecessary in such an establishment, he used all possible despatch to supply the amount of malt liquor ozdered. The health of the individuat who had provided this treat was now proposed by the Kinchin-Grand in a speech staffed so full of slang terms and fiash expressions that had Mr. Page been at a Chinese banquet, with a Mandarin holding forth in his own language at the head of the table, the whole affair would have proved equally intelligible. However, the commercial traveller’s health was drunk with uproarious glee; and almost immediately after this ceremony was performed, the Magaman entered the room. The appearance of that formidable personage was the signal for fresh outbursts of rejoicing. The boys looked upon him as affording the brightest example that could possibly be offtred to their contemplation, —a sort of thieves’ cynosure, combining all the ad- mirable qualities of Dick Turpin, Jack Sheppard, and other individuals noted in the Newgate calendar, —a hero in fine, the mere mention of whose name was sufficient to excite the fires of emulation ia every breast. On the other hand, the girls surveyed aim with profound deference and respect; and had King George III entered the place at that mo- ment, the young prostitutes would not have thought half so much of the company of that monarch as of the presence of one whose mafvellous deeds were calculated, if recorded in print, to invest the annals | flesh of crime with the interest of romance. The Magsman shook hands with the Kinchin- Grand and Shickster Sal, and then bestowed the same mark of condescension upon Page. He like- wise dispensed a few shillings in regaling the juvenile aorde; and, having apologised for leaving the de- lectable company in such hacte, he took his departure with the commercial traveller. “Well—what do you think of that scene?” said the Magsman to his companion, when they had gained the street, along which they proceeded in the direction of Cripplegate. “I could not have believed that such places ex- “ated in the heart of a city which boasts its wealth, its civilisation, and its philanthropy,” answered Page, speaking with an emphasis congenial to his feeli ngs. “Ah! there are more extraordinary things than that to be seen in London, I can assure you,” re- turned the Mageman; “and may be you'll become ‘acquainted with them some day or another. Lord! what a tale I could tel] if I was examined before a Committee of the House of Commons, as they call it} nothing positively nothing ofthe misery, poverty, nothing—positively misery, poverty, and wretchedness which the working-classes endure : repeated Page. At this moment they had reached the end of the ume which joins Fore Street ; and as there was a hack- ney coach blocking up the way, Page stepped behind the Magsman to let him proceed first, as only one pereon could pass by at a time. But just as Page was the Kinchin-Grand : “so look | picking his way betv ‘en the vehicle and the buildings on his right, the Mageman turned suddenly beek —eeized him violently round the waist with both arme—and hurled him completely into the hackney- coach, the door of which was wide at the me consternation was upon him, and death sppeared te stare him in the face. . “You see, my ben-cull,” resumed the Magsman, after a pause, and speaking in a cool, deliberate tone, “the fact is that you're caught in your own net The tables are turned upon you—and you must now take the consequences.” “Will you murder me?” asked Page, with a hollow groan. “ Not such a fool as that,” responded the Mags- man. “Your carcase would not be even worth the price of dog’s-meat for the same weight in horse- : whereas you may manage to raise five hun- dred guineas for your ransom.” “ Five hundred guineas !” ejaculated the miserable commercial traveller, now bitterly repenting his folly in entering into this enterprise against the for- midable enemies who had not only baffled him but also got him completely in their power. “Well, ain't it enough ?” growled a voice, which Page immediately recognised to be that of the Big Beggarman. The commercial traveller groaned again, but made no reply; and throwing himeelf back in the vehicle he gave way to his melancholy reflections. lord of the Beggar's Staff now proceeded to chat familiarly amonget themselves; and the coach rolled rapidly along, the driver frequently whipping his horses to increase their speed. Upwards of three quarters of an hour thus passed ; and at length the vehicle stopped. Page was imme- diately compelled to alight: and he was conducted between the Magsman and the Big Beggarmans along a place which he took to be a court or alley, —for the mere fact of being blindfolded sharpened his perception relative to the nature of the echoes raised by the trampling of feet and the sounds of voices. “Hold your tongue, mind,” sald the Mageman a» they thus proceeded onward: “or it will be the worse for you, depend apon it.” ©The butt-end of a horse-pistol is a nasty thing coming across one’s brains,” addefl the Beggarman. The commercial traveller remained silent acein d- ingly; and in a few minutes he was led up twu on: a a CO cS CONNEC OOO