The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 83: what you’re looking at

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72 applied bread and cheese; and the Duke bado him bring the food into the servants’ hall. Then his Grace showed him where to draw a jug of strong ale, and bade him sit down and eat. Tho man most readily and joyously obeyed: he placed himself at the table, and commenced a mighty in- road on the sirloin,—prefacing i¢ however with a deep draught of the old October ale. The Duke sate down at a little distance; and without ap- pearing to look towards his strange was nevertheless contemplating him furtively the whole time. * I's werry kind, my lord,” said the man, “ for a great nobleman like yourself to take such com- passion on a poor hard-working feller which has had no work to do for the last month-— “Eat and drink,” interrupted Marchmont ; “and give me your thanksafterwards. Do not be afraid of making inroads on the provisions: there is more meat in the larder, and there is more ale in the caak.” - Thus encouraged, the ill-looking guest renewed his assaal¢ on the sirloin, and paid his respects to the ale. He ate with the voracity of one who had been foodiess for many, many long hours—as was indeed the case. At length he laid down his knife and fork, and drained the jug. “Now,” eaid the Duke, “replenish that jug— for I must have some little discourse with you. I have already given you the assurance that I do not things by halves; and I must see if I can be of service to you for the future.” The man lost no time in refilling the jug from the barrel of old October; and returning to his seat, he nodded with a sort of respectful fami- liarity to the Duke, saying, “ Here’s wishing your Grace all ’ealth and ’appiness, and many yeass to enjoy them good things which you bestows on a poor honest Christian like myself.” The Duke made no response: but rising from his seat, shut the door of the servants’ hall; and then returning to his chair, he seid, «We must now have a few minutes’ discourse.” There was something in the Duke of March- mont’s appearance — something which seemed altered in his manner, that the ill-looking guest did not altogether like. He looked around him— fidgetted on his chair for a moment—appeared in- clined to take up his club, which lay near his bat- tered hat at his feet—then flung a furtive giance at the Duke again—and then had recourse to the ale jug, as if thence to derive fortitade and en- couragement. When he deposited it on the table again, he perceived that the Duke was regarding him in a peculiar manner “Do not be afraid,” said Marchmont ; “ and do not start nor grow ‘excited—much leas attempt you no harm—but in a did start despite the injungtion to the contrary; and again he made a motion as if to snatch up his club: but the Duke, instan- taneously displaying a pistol, said, “ Look ! you are at my mercy. But be quict———I tell you again that I will do you no harm. In a word, you can serve me.” “Ah! that’s different,” exclaimed the fellow. “TI always like to hear that my services is needed —oos why, it shows that everything is square and above board.” " THES MYSTERIES OF THE OCOUR.. “ Yes—I know you,” continued the Duke: “I recognised you within a few instants after our en- counter; and therefore you may judge whether I mean you a mischief, considering the way in which I have treated you. Your name is Bernes—and you are known as the Barker.” “Well, my lord, I don’t deny them’s my names, titles, and distinctions; and if so be they ain’t quite so high aud mighty as your own, they’re all werry well in their own way. I come of a werry respectable family, my lord: most of my ancestors was great public characters, and went out of the world bafure the public gaze amidst werry great applause. I’m rayther proud on ’em, though I says it which shouldn’t say it.” “Now that you have done this long tirade,” said the Duke of Marchmont, “ perhaps you will listen to me.” “But first of all, my lord,” interrupted the Burker, “perhaps you will have the goodness to tell me how it was you recognised me. I know that I’m a genelman of much renown, and that people in certain quarters makes theirselves un- common busy in looking arter me and prying into my consarns.” “A few words of explanation will suffice,” re- sponded the Duke, cutting short that garrulity which received its inspiration from the strength of the October ale. “There have been accurate per- sonal descriptions given of you in ne wepaper- advertisements, placards, and handbills——” “Ab! my lord, see what poppilarity is!” said the Burker: and he again had recourse to the ale jug: We may here pause for an instant to explain that the Duke of Marchmont had at the time, for reasons known to the reader, taken a t interest in the trial of Lettice Rodney: he had therefore closely watched the newspapers in order to see whether anything transpired relative to Madame Angelique’s establishment, or showed that there had been a connexion in auy sort of way between Lettice Rodney and himself. Thus was it that the Duke had been led to read the personal description that was given of the Burker, when the result of the trial proved that he, Mrs. Webber, and another were the actual murderers of the Liverpool lawyer. The Duke had since thought more than once that Barney the Burker was an instrument for whom he could find employment: and thus was it thas the personal description of the ruffian had re- mained so faithfully impressed upon his memory. Infinitely disgusted was his Grace new with the coarse flippant familiarity which the Barker dis- played under the influence of the ale: for refined villany loathes vulgar villany, although there may be no shade of difference between the actual crimi- nality of either, and although the former may con- descend or feel iteelf necessitated to make use of the latter. But Marchmont did not choose to as- same an overbearing manner, nor to betray his dis- gust too visibly to the ruffian whose services he was now resolved to put into requisition. “TI can well understand,” he said, “how it is that you are a houseless wanderer and that your condition is so deplorable. There is a reward set upon your head; and your predicament is more than ever perilous after your most recent exploits with the police-officers at the house some where io the southern side of London. Now, if I were ts GDoo <S co