The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 130: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. some little while longer—until old Jonathan Car. nabie began to feel the effects of the hot brandy- and-water which he was drinking. Then the Burker suggested something about the propriety of a little bit of supper—adding “that he was slways acous- tomed to take a mouthful at nine o’clock in the evening, at hismansion, No. 347, Grosvenor Square, —where he should be happy to see his friend Mr. Carnabie to dinner at five o’clock on the morrow,” The old Sexton, in spite of the penuriousness of bis habits, thought that he could not possibly do otherwise than give the best possible entertain- ment to eo liberal, generous, and hospitable a friend; and as he himself bad dined at two o’clook, he had no disinclination for a supper. He there- fore suggested a rump-steak, and was preparing to ving the bell to order the same,—when the Burker caught him by the arm, saying, “Stop, my good friend | don’t trust that dirty drab of a servant to go out and buy anythink for you. There’s nothiuk like a lobster for supper ; and it just happens that my own fishmonger lives close by. No offence— but Ill go myself and send in the finest he’s got.” Jonathan vowed that he would pay for the lob- ster: but Mr. Barnes woujd not think of such a thing; and he issued forth aceordingly. Proceed- ing to the nearest fishmonger's he purchased a very fine lobster, which he ordered to be sent to Mr. Chubb’s; and on his way back, the Burker just dropped into a chemigt’s shop, where he procured asmall phial of a certain liquid drug which he pretended to be under the necessity of taking. He then returned to Mr. Chubb’s abode, and re- joined hie friend Mr. Jonathan Carnabie. The lobster was served up; and the old sexton relished it all the more that he had not been com- pelled to pay for it. Another jug of hot water was brought up: the tumblers were refilled; and the Burker seized the opportunity to pour a few drops from his phial into Junathan Carnabie’s glass. Five minutes afterwards tho old sexton was lying beck in hie arm-chair in a state of com- plete stupefaction. The Burker rose from his own seat—took «a candle in his hand—and crept softly up the stairs to the bed-room overhead. To force open the box was the work of ¢ few moments; and at the bottom of all the clothes the villain discovered about thirty sovereigns in a worsted stocking. “Well, the game was worth playing for,” he ssid to himeclf, as he secured the aojins about his person: and then he cautiously crept down the steirs again. At that very instant there was = loud double knock a¢ the front door: the Burker, hastily puff- ing out the candle, deposited it in a corner; aud the mext instant he himself opened the door. A tall gentleman in a cloak was standing on the atepe; and Berney at once recognised the person who hsd eo suddenly iuterfered to prevent bis murder- ous design on old Jonathan Cernabie at Wood- bridge. Bat not for an instant did the Burker lose his presence of mind: he issued forth; and the next moment the servant-girl appeared to an- swer the inquiry of Mr. Redcliffe—for he, as the reader bas doubtless understood, was the tell gen- tleman in the cloak. We must add that not for an instant hed Mr. Redeliffe suspected that she in- dividal who had just passed him was the miscreant Barker. 219 We must follow the footsteps of the last- mentioned pergon. On turning the nearest cor- ner, he quickened his paee—he sped into Oxford Street—and entering « cab, ordered the driver to take him to Whitechapel Church. On arriving there the Burker dismissed the cab, walked along for a few minutes, and entering a public-house, sate down to reflect upon the course which he should now pursue. He somewhat repented the trick he had played old Jonathan Carnabie. Not that he regretted having obtained possession of the thirty sovereigns—very far from it: but he feared there would be a bue and cry—and whether or not it was suspected that it was veritably the Burker who had committed the robbery, an accu: rate, description of his present personal appearance would be eure to obtaia publicity. He must there- fore change his disguise altogether; and it was on this eubject he was now deliberating within him- eelf. It wae a small public-house, 1n en obscure street leading out of Whitechapel, which Barney had thus entered. There was only one other person in the little parlour at the time; and this indi-- vidual speedily rose and took hie departure. A few minutes afterwarde the doar opened; and another person entered. He wore a low-crowned bat with very broad brims—benesth which ap- peared maseca of red heir; and he had large whiskers, of a corresponding hue. He wore a pair of those green spectacies which have side-glasees, and are denominated shades. A loose brown paletot, or overcoat, was buttoned up to the throat,. which was encircled by a thick shawl-neckerchief. The over.coat, as well as the grey pahtaloons, were a little the worse for wear ; and it was difficult at a first glance to judge what the social position or the avocation of the individual might be. Tho waiter followed him into the room with e glass of hot gin-and-water : the green-spectacied stranger threw down & spvereign and received the change. Before the waiter left the parlour, the Burker ordered his own glass to be refilied; and in the meanwhile, he was furtively surveying the indi- vidual who had just entered. The latter was. doing precisely the same thing in reapect to the Burker ; and though the eyes of both were shaded’ by spectacles, yet each appeared to have the intui- tive suspicion that he was the object of these stealthy regards on the part of the other. Phe waiter brought in the fresh supply of. spirits-and-water which the Burker had ordered ; and when he bad retired, the two occupants of the parlour surveyed each other again in the same stealthy manner as before. At length the Burker sucdenly burst into a loud laugh ; and dashing his hand upon the table, exclaimed, “ By jingo, Jack, it’s excellent! The only thing is, it’s too gad!’ Jack Smedley—for he was the disguised indivi- dual who had so recently entered—sterted up from his seat in direst alarm at that sudden guffaw on the Burker’s part: but quickly recognising his friend’s voice, he was relieved of a world of terror. “You don’t mean to say this is you, Barney ?” exclaimed Jack as they shook hands. “ Hash, yon fool! No mentioning of names !’’ growled the Burker, savagely. “Bat I tell you that you've done the thing too strong: that red wig of your’n,” he continued, in a low voice, “ian’s nat’val: them false whiskera is too busby ; COUMIUC NOOK (G