The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 131: what you’re looking at

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114 THE MYSTERIES. standing in the boat when the others made their appearance on the spot. The party entered the wherry and took their places, Ramsey being seated between the Beggarman and Carretty Poll; and the Kinchin-Grand, having pushed off, betook himself to the oars, which he managed with remark. able expertness. The wherry shot out from the bank, uport the black bosom of the Thames, which not the feeblest twinkling of moonbeam or starlight now relieved of its sombre gloom: but as the boat drew nearer to the middle of the river, the profile of ite shores was marked by the feeble glimmerings which the windows of the houses on either side shed forth. “Now, Bill,” said the Beggarman, “ran dowtt the stream. The tide’s with you—and you wont have to pull much.” “I understand,” atiswered the youthfal reprobate. “ Where do you want to land ?” “ Just below Execution Dock,” was the answer, There was something which sounded so ominous in this reply, that Ramsey shuddered from head to foot: and now it.struck him for the first time that he was in compang with three persons who, although one was & woman, were no doubt capable of any atrocity. That the Beggarman was as desperate a villain as any that London contained, he was well aware: that the daughter had not failod to imbibe the example of her sire, he naturally conjectured ; —and that the youth who rowed the wherry, was of an equally vile stamp, the glimpse which he had obtained of his features in the public room of the Beggar's Staff, when he was called upon to join the party, furnished pretty conclusive evidence. All these reflections swept through the mind of Ramsey the instant that an alarm sprang up in his soul; and he repented of his rashness in trusting himself with such companions. There he was, completely at thelr mercy~in the midst of that silent highway where the voice that orled out for help could be stifled in & moment, and where « grave already yawned, a9 it were, to enshroud the corpse of a victim ! Commingling with these thoughts, too, were the horrible ideas so suddenly excited in his miad by the mention of the frightfal name of Execution Dock—the place at which mutineers and all crimi- nals whom the Courts of Admiralty doomed to death, underwent the extreme sentence of the blood-thirsty laws! For Ramsey knew that he was implicated in crimes which, if detected, would send him to the scaffold;—and it was therefore no wonder that he shuddered from head to foot as the ominous name of the proposed landing-place fell upon his ears. “ Are you certain of being enabled to find your friend Warren without delay?” he inquired, thus breaking a long silence which had prevailed since the Beggarmau gave his orders to the Kinchin- Grand, and during which the boat had shot farther down the stream. “ Quite certain,” was the answer, given ina tone which might have had nothing unusaal in it, but which the increasing fears of Ramsey constraed into a foreboding gruffness. “ And you think that he will consent to accom- pany us to Aylesbury to-night?” he asked, in that species of nervous humour which prompts men who entertain vague ideas of impending danger to con- verse with those at whose hands the peril is dreaded, ere CE LE PC AL CI in order to glean from their responses an assur- ance that such apprehensions are altogether un- founded. “To be sure I do,” answered the Big Beggar- mat. “Joe is not the feller to let a chance of sacking a good sum escape him.” “So much the better!” exclaimed Ramsey, as- soming & tone of cheerfulness, which he was how- ever from experiencin inwardly. “Shall we soon push in for the shore?” “There's Execution Dock tight ahead of you now,” retarned the Beggarman, extending his arm in the direction of the ominous spot. “ Bat per- haps your eyes don’t get accustomed to the dark- ness quite so soon as mine” “f can see something that appears to hang in the sir,” said Ramsey, straining all the powers of his vision in order to penetrate the obscurity which prevailed all around. “It is & black object—a thing darker than the darkaess ——” “ Well—and that’s one of them scarecrows that mark Execution Dock at times,” observed the Big Beggarman, with a ro igh chuckling laugh, in which both his daughter aud the Kinchin-Grand joined. “ A man hanging?” gasped Ramsey, as his excited imagination made the appalling object even more palpable than it really was—until the very features of the pendent corpse seemed to glare upon him with stony gaze throtigh the darkness of the night. “ Yes—and why not?” exclaimed the Beggarman, with another coarse chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to the aristocracy to hang up poor devils who haven't got any influential friends to beg em off But I say, old feller,” he continued, his tone experiencing a rapid and ominous change, as he laid his heavy hand rudely tpon the shouldet of Ramsey, “you'd better give me that bag of guiness which you've got under your cloak.” “ The guineas!” repented the wretched man, a cold tremor passing ovet hit and freezing the very blood in his veins. “Oh! you hesttate—do you? cried the Big Beg- garman. “ Now, Bill—keep the boat steady !”—and, thts speaking, he threw fhiimself furiously upon Ramsey, whom he overpowered in an instant. “ Villain—miscreant—assassin !” almost screamed the desperate gentleman, as his cloak came off in the useless struggle which he endeavoured to renew against his burly opponent : but having been thrown with his back across the seat, he was unable to offer any effectual resistance, the more especially as Car- rotty Poll now lent her aid to her father. “Steady the boat, Bill—or, by God! she'll cap- size,” thundered the Begzarman: for the wherry was oscillating frightfully. “Now, sir—give up that gold ——” “ Never!” cried Ramsey, suddenly armed with the courage of despair: and by an almost super- human effort, he hurled the ruffian back—regaining his own feet instantly. But Carrotty Poll, who was herself flung aside by this rapid movement on the part of the intended victim, had fallen upon his cloak which lay on the seat; and her arm had encountered something which she felt to be the bag of gold. Plunging her hand into a pocket formed in the lining of the garment, she assured herself that such was the fact;—and in a shrill tone of exultation, she cried, “I’ve got it, father! Hold him—seize him!” All this was the work of an instant ;—and the Big COMGLOO S COMM