The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 127: what you’re looking at

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ce 1] >) ow THE MYSTERIES. baronet must either be got out of the way, or put out of the way,” returned the Beggarman. “ Well —it is for you to decide how the thing is to be: and then name the recompense you are prepared to give.” Ramsey turned ghastly pale :—the next moment a crimson hue spread over his countenance ;— his eyes glared with a lurid light—and his lips quivered. He looked at the Beggarman, who was cool and collected : he then glanced at the red-haired young woman, whose features were likewise calm and im- passable. This survey appeared to give him courage—that ruffian-like courage with which the eentleman-villain is compelled to fortify himself in order to induce his lips to frame the words which shall express the horrible designs that have already been well digested in his secret thoughts. “ Now, then, sir—what is itto be?’ demanded the Beggarman. “You needn’t fear to speak candidly to us,” ob- served Carrotty Poll, encouragingly. “Tn course not,” added her father. “We ain’t partickler—so long as the blunt is forthcoming;” and he laughed in a manner which made Ramsey’s blood run cold in his veins and his flesh creep upon his bones. “W ell—after all, you can but refuse—and there will be no harm done,” said the latter, in a musing tone and after a short pause. “ But. 1s impossible that you can misunderstand me for asingle moment! In a word—the baronet must be put out of the way—or there will be a general exposure, in which we shall all sink !” “This is serious—but not too serious for us to un- dertake,” returned the Beggarman. “At the same time, we don't fear anythink that may come of such an exposure as you talk of.” “ Will five hundred guineas—in good sterling gold —induce you to rid us of this accursed Sir Ricnard Stamford?” demanded Ramsey, worked up to a pitch of desperation by the ruin that stared him in the face. “ Have you the cash by you?” asked the Beggar- man. “Yes—I have brought it with me,” returned Ramsey, producing a heavy bag from beneath his cloak: “and it is yours if you will set out with me for AyJesbury—to do the deed—this very night.” As he uttered these last words in a hoarse whisper, he again secured the money about his person,—while his eyes were fixed with an expression of anxious Inquiry upon the countenance of the burly villain. “JT will guarantee that it shall be done—but I can’t do it alone,’ responded the latter, after a few instants’ deep reflection. “Must it be done to- night?” “We must set off for Aylesbury to-night,” answered Ramsey impatiently. “ Martin will be devoured with the most cruel suspense until my return: and I dare not return unless it be with the certainty that the man who holds my very life in his hand » “ Well—we won’t waste time by talking over it,” interrupted the Beggarman. ‘“ But we must see the Magsman without delay. He is at the house on other side of the river, where the baronet was con- fined,” ‘ “T will accompany you to him,” said Ramsey. Come—let us depart.” “This moment,” observed the Beggarman. “ We must cross in a boat—but, luckily, we have a wherry — a of our own—and therefore we sha’n’t have to go far to find a means of getting over the river. You will go with us, Poll,” said the villain, darting a signifi- cant look on his daughter. “Me, father?” she ejaculated, in a tone of un- feigned surprise. “ Yes—you,” returned the Big Beggarman. “ Sup- pose that me and the Magsman sets off at once for Aylesbury with this genelman, there’ll be some orders to give you about a many little things to do in our absence.” And, as he thus spoke, he kicked his daughter’s foot gently under the table. “Very well, father,’ she observed. ready in a few minutes.” “Stay—I must put on my rough coat and hat,” said the Beggarman. “ Beg your pardon, sir, for leaving you for a moment,” he continued, addressing himself to Ramsay: “but sha’n’t keep you waiting long. May be you'll take a glass of somethink short to ex- pel the cold ?” “Nothing, I thank you,” responded Ramsey. ‘‘Pray make haste: there is no time to lose,” he ex- claimed, with an excitement which he could not restrain. “ We shall be ready in a jiffey,” said the Big Beg- garman; and he thereupon followed his daughter up the steep and narrow staircase which has already been described in a previous chapter. “T shall be CHAPTER XXXIITI. A SCENE ON THE THAMES ON gaining a room on the first-floor, Carrotty Poll set down the light on a table; and, looking her father full in the face, she observed in a low and sinister tone, “ What do you mean to do with this swell-cove 2?” “ Now, look here, my gal,” was the answer, un- hesitatingly given: “the genelman has got five hundred golden boys about him—and them golden boys we mean to have—eh>?” “ That's certain,” responded Carrotty Poll, her countenance glowing with delight up to the very verge of her flaming and disordered hair. “ Well—and a murder is to be done in order to get the money—eh ?” continued the bloated ruf- flan. “True again: but do go on—or he'll get tired of waiting and begin to suspect something,” exclaimed Poll, with vixenish sharpness. “ A murder must be committed, you say?” “To be sure. And what does it matter to us which is put out of the way—this Ramsey, or that baronet? Besides, it ain’t worth while going all the way to Aylesbury to knock a fellow on the head for the purpose of getting five hundred guineas—when it can be done close by, on the river ?” “JT understand you, father,” said the young wo- man. “ But you and me can’t do it alone. Some one must scull the boat ?” “The Kinchin-Grand is in the public-room,” answered the Big Beggarman ; “and he’shall come along with us.” “What! a mere boy—a youth of sixteen or seventeen ?” ejaculated Carrotty Poll. “ He’s a desperate felloyv—and I know he'll serve com Gbooksreom