The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 314: what you’re looking at

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

288 THE COURT OF LONDON clenched his fist and struck it forcibly upon the table. Often, too, during that hour, did he go and listen at the street door to hear if footsteps were approaching. The clock of Clerken- well Church proclaimed one, and still Taggarty did not return. What could be keeping him? If he went quick, he need not be more than ten minutes going, and the like time for coming back, which would leave him forty minutes to stop and talk in Fleet Lane. Surely, then, he ought. to be back by this time. Was Taggarty capable of betraying him? No, the Hangman rejected that idea. Why, then, did he not return? At length, about ten minutes past one, the chandler made his appearance. His looks were haggard and frightened, and Coffin at once saw that he had obtained some evil intelli- gence. ‘‘ Well, what is it? ’’ he demanded, in a voice expressive of the most poignant impatience. ‘“ There’s a terrible smash,”’ was Taggarty’s reply. ‘ Ben- cull, the Mushroom Faker, and the Durrynacker are all three arrested, and the officers have been to Fleet Lane — ” ‘““ Malediction! ”’ ejaculated the Hangman, in a low but terrible voice of concentrated rage. ‘‘ What else, Bill? Go on, tell me everything.” ‘Tt appears that the Buttoner has peached and all par- ticulars about Nell Gibson is known. You had better be off, Dan’el, as quick as ever you can. Sally will meet you in two hours down at old Jeremy Humpage’s in Whitechapel.”’ ‘‘ What on earth made her fix upon that place? ”’ cried the Hangman. ‘ She ought to know very well that old Jeremy won’t open his house at such a time of night, or, rather, in the morning; and that even if it was the middle of the day, he wouldn’t like to receive a visit from me when I am in trouble. It would be all very well if I had a lot of things to dispose of, plate or jewelry, or what not.” ‘“ Well, but Sally says you must make the old man let you in, and nobody will think of looking for you there. You couldn’t go to Joe Parkes’s, on Saffron Hill, close by here, nor yet to Meg Blowen’s, in the Almonry. Sharp Mawley’s in the Mint is done up, and Polly Scratchem, in Whitechapel, is no friend of yourn. So Sally was bewildered, and thought it best for you to go at once to old Jeremy’s.”’ “Well, and I don’t know but what, after all, it’s the best COMmmicloo S (C(O) im