The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 265: what you’re looking at

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

THE CATASTROPHE 243 any longer. His extortions and intrusions are beyond all bearing, and the oftener I yield, the greater will his exac- tions become. I will shoot him like any dog. The circum- stance that he has stolen into my house, unperceived by any one, will be corroborated by the servants, and the ex- planation of the tragedy will, therefore, be easy enough. What is it, after all? I find a robber on the premises, and I shoot him. No one will think of inquiring how I came to have pistols so handy, and if the question be asked, an excuse is easily devised. Oh, wretch, wretch! your hour is now come, and I will avenge my dying niece. But I must lose no time.” While these reflections passed hurriedly through Lord Leveson’s brain, he concealed the pistols, which were small and of elegant workmanship, about his person, and retraced his way to the Crimson Drawing-room. Thence he pro- ceeded into the adjacent apartment, where the Hangman was lounging negligently upon one of the splendid sofas, with his dusty boots on the velvet cushion. “Now,” said the nobleman, “ what do you require? What do you demand of me?” and as he thus spoke, he placed himself in such a position as to be near enough to take sure aim of the Hangman without affording him the chance of springing up and dashing the pistol out of his hand the moment it should be drawn forth. ““T suppose your lordship knows,’ responded Coffin, raising himself to a sitting posture, “‘ that I entertain a dreadful vengeance against your niece, Lady Ernestina, for I dare say she has told you everything? ”’ “Yes, everything,” replied the marquis, his countenance ashy pale, but still with an expression of desperate firmness. “ The atrocious outrage you committed upon her — ”’ “Outrage, indeed!’’ echoed the Hangman, contemptu- ously, as well as with ferocity in his looks; ‘‘ but do you know, my lord, the different outrages this precious niece of yours has attempted against me, first plotting to stick a dagger into me at Westminster Bridge, then thrusting me into one of your queer chairs with the intention of leaving me to die of starvation? ”’ ‘“Wretch!”’ ejaculated the Marquis of Leveson, and drawing forth one of the pistols with marvellous rapidity, he at once levelled it point-blank at the Hangman’s head. KS a