The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 357: what you’re looking at

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

or THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. —_[—npe wee aap ee sommendation he will be induced to pass over, if; marderous scheme into execution; while the not actually to forgive or forget, your conduct towards his sister. Exposure wil! benefit no one ; and innocent though she be, would nevertheless wound the delicacy of Miss Varian herself. Her brother will doubtiess admit the justice of this rea- soning; and therefore I do not think that you need labour under any apprehension of his vengeance.” “I thank you much—most sincerely—for these assurances,” said the Marquis. “Pray make my peace with the young man; and tell him that if a few hundred pounds will be of any service——” * T am very much mistaken,” interrupted the Ba- ronet, with ill-concealed disgust, “if Theodore Varian be not quite a different persan-——-—” *° Well, well, there's no harm io mentioning the money matter,” said the Marquis, painfully anxious to avoid exposure on any terms; for he knew full well that if it became noised abroad that hie house contained such auxiliaries to his sensuality as the mechanical chairs, the indignation of the populace would be so excited that his life would not be safe. “But you and I, Huntingdon,” he acded,—*' on what terms are we to remain in future ?” “Lord Leveson,” said the Baronet, in a tone that was rather sorrowful than angry, “I am not enough of a saint myself to enable me to take up stones to cast at you: dat at the same time I think that there are extremes into which it is possible to plunge in the gratification of one’s passions—and deep into those extremes have you been hurried.” With these words the Baronet turned away; and quitting the room, he joined Theodore Varian, who was waiting for him in the hall. The two left the house together—the young man feeling fully satis- fied that in Mre. Baines his sister had a tender nurse as well as a careful guardian and a true friend. As for Mr. Stimson—he and his men, amidst wonder and amazement at the resuscitation, bore away all the paraphernalia of death: but as the bill was promptly paid by Lord Leveson, the undertaker found nothing to complain of. And now, ere closing this chapter, we must state that Dr. Copperas, on returning home, sate down to pen a detailed account of the case of re- suscitation, in the course of which he declared “that his treatment of it was materially assisted by the advice of that truly remarkable man, Doctor Thurston:” while, on the other hand, Doctor Thurston likewise sate down to pen his narrative, which he interlarded with many com- pliments to “that ornament of his profession, Doctor Copperas.” These statements appeared respectively in the next Numbers of the Scalpel and the Splint, and created a marvellous sensation throughout the medical world. CHAPTER XC. MOTHEE FRANKLIN. It will be remembered that the Hangman and Bencull had resolved, after due consultation, to make away with che formidable Bow Street officer, Mr. Lawrence Sampeon. Their project was to ‘eatice him, by some means or another, down to the dark crib in Jacob’s Island, where three or four of the gang would lie in readiness to put the Hangman himself was to call at Larry's hour in Long Acre on some pretence and get possess:on of the Police-Book. ‘With a view to the effectaal carrying out of this plan, Nell Gibson had been selected as the most fitting instrument of the plotters; and at the same time the Buttoner had been appointed as a spy upon her actions. It was necessary to remind the reader of these particulars: and we must add that although the Hangman’s gang subsequetly discovered certain proofs of what they believed to be Nell Gibson's treachery towards them in respect to their deal- ings with Sir Douglas Huntingdon, they had agreed, after calm deliberation, to conceal their knowledge of the young woman’s additional per- fidy in respect to the note which had been inter- cepted by the Buttoner. To that resolve they had come, as we described at the time, with a view to ascertain whether she weré also betraying them with respect to the plot initiated in reference to Larry Sampson. lt was now a week since the memorable night of the fire; and if, at about six o'clock in the even. ing, we peep into Mr. Lawrence Sampson’s com- fortable parlour at his house in Long Acre, we shall behold him sitting by the fire reading a book and discussing a glass of wine. Presently the door opened; and his housekeeper, Dame Mar- gery, came to announce that a very old woman, who refused to give her name, wished to speak to him. The Bow Street Officer, who never refused to see any body on business, at once desired that she should be admitted: and accordingly the visi- tant was shown into his presence. Dame Margery withdrew; and Larry Sampson instantaneously recognised the old harridan, who, bent double with age, now advanced towards him, shaking her head and wagging her toothless jaws with a horrible kind of mysterious significancy. “Do you know who I be?” she asked, in a voice something between a cackle and a squeak. “Yes—to be sure,” responded Larry: “you are Mother Franklin—and you live over at Mrs. Young’s in Bermondsey. Now then, what do you want with me.” “Ah! I thought as how you would know who I was,” said the old woman, with a merry laugh, which nevertheless struck hideous upon the ear. “You know every body, Mr. Sampson—and every body knows you.” Thus speaking, Mother Franklin took from her pocket a round snuff-box with an indecent picture upon the lid; and while regaling herself with a pinch, some ‘of the snuff got into her throat, thereby exciting so painfal a cough that it seemed as if the old hag was about to choke, while the scalding rheum poured down her wrinkled cheeks, leaving her eyes horribly red and bleared. She was wrapped in an old dingy red cloak, with the hood drawn over her head; and she walked with a stick. Her whole appearance was therefore not unlike that of one of the lowest and most wretched class of vagabond fortune-tellers: an@ now, as she stood shaking from head to foot with that prolonged hacking cough, Larry Sampson could poarcely ayoid turning away from her in _ Well, what is it you want with me?” he inquired again, after a sufficient pause to allow the harridan OOO Ss