The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 400: what you’re looking at

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

ape eee SP PSE PPA TC A a Ss THE MYSTERIES OF THE GOURT. $89 “ No—nor fs it necessery that she should—not a whit more necessary than that your son should be mado aware that you are his mother. You are intimate with the Florimelis,” continued the Regent, “and you can so manage matters that some day—for a few moments—my daughter may appear in my presence and speak to me, although without being aware that she is my daughter!” “Do you not know, George, that your name is seldom—very seldom mentioned in the presence of Pauline?—for her husband and her friends are ever fearful of reviving the memory of her dead sister.” “Yes—and also because the Florimels regard me as the destroyer of poor .Ooctavia’s health, happiness, and life,” added the Prince, in a mourn- ful tone: and for an instant he seemed as if re- morse had touched his heart—for an expression of unutterable anguish suddenly swept over bis coun- tenance. “But it will not be necessary for me and the Florimels to meet,” he added immediately; “do you arrange matters in such a way that I may see my daughter for a few moments—that I may hear her voice—that I may compare her with the image of her mother, who is gone—and that, in a word, I may have the satisfaction of beholding my child, although I may not announce myself as her father, but muat coldly retain my character as her Prince and the represenotative of her Sovereiga. Do this for me, Sophia—pledge yourself to gratify me in that respect—and I will perferm for you al] that you have asked in reference to your son.” “I¢ is a compact between us,” said the Prin- cess. “To-morrow I will see Pauline spon this subject.” “ And I, on my part,” rejoined the Prince, “ will lose no time in deliberating on the best way to accomplish all you desire in respect to your son.” The brother and sister then separated—the furmer returning to Cariton House—and the latter semaining in her own aspartmont at 8. James's Palace, to ponder upon the miny, many things which sate heavy upon her mind. CHAPTER CIIL THE BARONET AND THE HANGMAN. On the following day, between two and three o’clock in the afternoon, Mr. Daniel Coffin was sitting on the step of his shop-door, smoking as long pipe, and conversing with a neighbour who was doing precisely the same on the opposite side of Fleet Lane. Jack the Foundling was in his own room, reading the history of Dick Turpin: Sally Melmwoth was attending to her household duties; and Dick had gone ont to pass an hour or two at some skittle-ground. Mr. Coffin was there- fore “minding the shep,” although he had very few customers at that time of the day, and would much rather have been without them altogether, —the shop being, as we have before informed our readers, a mere “blind” to serve as an cstensible souree of income in addition to his official gains and perquisites as hangman. What the conversation was about which he was earrying on with his neighbour, we de not propose to describe: suffice it to say that it was all of a sudden eut short by an cjacalation of mingled astonishment and alarm on the part of Daniel Coffin, as he beheld Sir Douglas Huntingdon ascending the lane. The reader will not fall to comprehend how it was that the Hangman’s equanimity was disturbed for a moment on beholding the Baronet: for there was not only the adventure at Shooter's Hill in which Mr. Ceffin was implicated, but there was likewise the grave episode of the fire;—and fer more serious still, there was the murder of Nell Gibson. But the Hangman possessed, as we have frequently shown, a wondrous amount of presence of mind; and no sooner were his apprehensions conceived than by a rapid chain of reasoning he set them at rest onee more. “If the Baronet had meant to be nasty about the Shooter's Hill affair, he would have done some- thing at once and not let a dozen days elapse like this. The same may be said about the fire at his house: and moreover azy lawyer would tell him that he could not prove it was me and my pals that did &% Then as for the groom—no one ean say but what he was burnt alive; for who would think he had been knocked on the head first? Lastly, it’s eat of all question for anybody to sus- pect that Nell Gibson has been made away with, except those who did it. So the Baronet can’t be coming with the intention of doing me any harm— that's positive!” Such were the thoughts which swept through the brain of Daniel Coffin; althongh at the same time he would much rather that Sir Douglas Hun- tingdon had not made his appearance in Fleet Lane at all—for when a person’s conscienee is not very pure, a shadow will sometimes disturb it. . “Well, Mr. Coffin,” said the Baronet, pausing in front of the shop with a good-tempered look; “I have come to pey you a visit, you see.” “Bo I see indeed,” returned the Hangman, with a grim smile: “but I hope there’s nu ili feeling between us on account of what took place down yonder some little time back.” “Ah! you mean the affair at the Jolly Wag- goner’e and then at Shooter’s Hill?” said the Baronet, who, be it understood, did not know who were the authors of the conflagration of his house. “Well, I no doubt ought to owe you a little grudge for that proceeding on your part: bat as I came out of it safe and sound, J will say nothing more on the subject. The truth is, I wish to speak to you on another little matter.” “Walk in, sir,” exclaimed the Hangman, not only well pleased at finding that he was really free from danger, but also suspecting that the indi- vidaal who had once stood the chance of being made a victim, was now come as a patron or em- ployer. “Walk in, sir—and if you don’t like te talk in the shop, you can step inte my parlour— where,” he added with another grim smile, “you shall be sure of good treatment.” “Oh! we can talk very well in the shop,” re- turned the Baronet, glancing around, “ since there is no one here but curselvese—and I presume we are secure against eaves-droppers ?” “Perfectly so,” rejoined the Hangman. “And now, won't you sit down, sir, and make yourself quite at home?” . The Baronet accordingly took a chair, while Daniel Coffin lounged against the mantile-piece, sername et CA COMME lOO© Ss CO