The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 335: what you’re looking at

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

= Sy ee $22 HE MYSTERIES OF TRE COURT. nrc eee ee i A te eS A SO SaaS the boy, producing a five-sbilling piece. “It’s the reg’lar counterfeit crank she’s come over me !” “Nonsense,” interrupted the Buttoner: then pulling a handfal of silver from his pocket, and counting out ten shillings, he said, “Now give me the letter you’ve got about you—walk about for half-an-bour or so—and go back and tell the young woman that you've done her oommission quite faithful.” The ten shillings chinked in the boy’s hand— the Buttoner grasped the letter—and they sepa- rated,—the latter returning to the boozing-<en where he had left the Hangman and Benoeall. In a few hasty words he explained to them all that had occurred; and on opening the letter, which was addressed to Sir Douglas Huntingdon, the contents were found to be as follow :— “Look well to your premises to-night. <A burglary is contemplated by some of the men you saw at the hut on Shooter's Hill. I said all I could to prevent this further annoyance towards you; but I could not succeed in stav- ing it off I am very much afraid that they suspected I was playing a part; if so, all these causes of suspicion will make it go hard with me sooner or later. But no matter: whatever is to happen mugt take its course. I would have come back to warn you of the attempt that will be made; but I am so fearful that one of the men might go and watch the street. So I prefer writing, and have found a trusty messenger. I think the men will enter by the coach-house aad get round to the back of the promises; bat you mugt keep watch at all points. One thing how- ever I conjure you—that is not to adopt any means to take them into castody, nor yet todo them any on- necessary hurt: only just to defend and protect your- self This is most likely the last time you will ever hear of or from “ELLEN.” The rege of the Hangman, Bencyil, and the Buttoner, on reading this epistle, may he bet- ter conceived than described. Janiel Coffin mut- tered such awful threats against the young woman, that if his two campanigns had not heen kindred fiends, their blood would have run cold. Bat when the first ebullition of their diabolical wrath was expended, they agreed after calmer and cooler deliberation, to conceal for the present their knowledge of this additional treachery on Nell Gibson’s part, with a view to ascertain by some means or other whether she were also be- traying them in respect to the plot initiated against Larry Sampeon. By the time this resolution was fairly diseussed and adopted by the three villains, the Hangman’s watch showed that it was midnight. They accord- ingly tossed off bumpers of brandy to drink suo- ceas to their undertaking ; and thus inspired with ® more than natural amount of brute courage, they repaired in the direction of Sir Douglas Hun- tingdon’s mansion. Although the street where the house was situated was a fashionable one, it was no great thorough- fare; and by the aid of the Hangman’s skeleton keys the coach-house door was soon opened. The three ruffians, having thus let themselves into this portion of the establishment, locked the door be- hind them, and then proceeded to light a “ darkey,” or lantern, which also formed part of the invariable tackle of acracksman. In the rear of the coach- house were the stables, in which there were several horses; and there was a door behind, Jeading into @ yard at the back of the house. The three bur- glars accordingly entered the stable for the purpose of passing through by the way described: but two ; of the horses exhibited such manifestations of terror by kicking and plunging, as if instixctively aware of the presence of intruderg, that a groom who slept in a chamber above tie coach-house was aroused from his repose, Leaping from his bed, and arming himself with & pair of pistols, the groom sprang down the ladder leading to his chamber: but he was instantaneously seized by the three burglars, against whom he made a desperate resistance. The lantern was dashed out of the Hangmsan’s hand, and the glass broken against the wall: it then fell upon a heap of straw, the light remainmg unextinguished. The same blow which dashed the lantern from ad — = ae 0 eee end Coffin’s hand knocked him violently down; and he ' lay half-stunned upon the floor for nearly s minute, during which Bencull and the Buttoner succeeded in overpowering the groom. “Let's give him his gruel, Ben,” cried the Buttoner, as they both dashed the unfortunate man with all their strength against the wall; so that he groaned heavily once, and then fell—lying motionless, either dead or else stunned beyond all hope of recovery. But scarcely was this crime accomplished, when the sudden blazing of the straw on which the lan- tern had fallen, startled the burglars. From the Buttoner’s lips burst the cry of “Fire "—the Hangman, who had just recovered his senses, sprang as if galvanised to his feet;—and Bencull at once began éo throw pails of water upon the ooach-house. But this endeavour to extinguish the flame speedily proving utterly ineffectual, the three burglars were compelled to depart as stealthily and promptly as they could. Sir Douglas Huntingdon had not as yet retired to rest. The story which he had heard from the lips of his houge relative to the troubles of Theodore ang dne Varian —together with the singular and touching featares of his interview with Nell Gibson,—had farnisned him with so much food for reflection that he remained sitting by his cheerful fireside, lost in serious meditation. All the rest of the household had retired to their chambers: a profound stillness reigned through the house; and not a sound reached his ears from without. But all on a sudden this dead, deep si- lence—this awe-inspiring solemnity of the mid- night hour—was broken by that most terrible of all alarms, the cry of “ Fire f° Startled from his reflections as if by the voices of doom thundering in his ear, and springing from his seat as if atung by an adder, Sir Douglas Hun- tingdon rushed from the room and bounded forth to the front door to ascertain whether the alarm were real and where the fire was. In an instant he acquired the dreadfal certainty that it was neither a cruel jest nor a false rumour: for the moment he opened the front door, the vivid light flashed upom his eyes, and he bebeld the flames bursting forth from the windows of the rooms above the coach- house. Already, too, were crowds hurrying thither —the alarm waa spreading to the neighbouring dwellings—and all the usual features of such a scene were manifesting themselves in their variety, com- fusion, and excitement. Several persons sprang towards Sir Douglas— some proffering their advice—others GOnMGOOOKS CO