The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 212: what you’re looking at

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

182 THE COURT OF LONDON A husband torn away from a sickly, dying wife, a father from four children, the eldest of whom was a mere boy and the youngest a babe at the breast. Oh, it was too much to be borne, too much even for a strong woman to endure, and therefore enough to crush altogether that poor ailing creature who had already seen so much misery. The reader will remember that Melmoth had robbed Meagles one night and that Meagles had subsequently bade him keep the gold, which was indeed at the time intended to relieve him. Comforts had then been introduced to the garret; but the working man would not remove into a better lodging for fear of absorbing his little store ere he should succeed in obtaining employment. Then it happened that he had about his person all his treasure at the moment when he became involved in the adventure which hurried him with such rapidity through the mock-trial at the Home Office, the journey to Woolwich, and the embarkation in the boat whence he plunged so desperately into the Thames on the night of pitchy darkness. But we must observe that when he had penned his brief and formal note, as dictated to him by the hirelings of despotic authorities, he had entrusted his gold, together with that letter, to the peace-officer, who un- dertook to deliver both next morning in London; but the villainous messenger left the note at the proper address, and retained the money for himself. Yes, all, every farthing did the officer keep. Not the smallest mite did he spare for the woman who was made, as it were, a widow and the children who were in like manner rendered fatherless. And thus the few comforts which had been gathered in that garret, and the vesture which had been redeemed from pledge, all found their way back to the pawnbroker’s to furnish the means of procuring bread. Woeful fate! heart- rending and agonizing was it for that poor mother to see article after article disappear, swallowed up by the ravenous maw of the monster Pauperism. And as she, day by day, saw the garret coming back to its recent state of misery, and her children lapsing into the shivering, shuddering chill of seminudity, and the landlady’s looks waxing blacker and more suspicious as the weekly rent-day was approaching, the poor creature felt that she could have lain herself down to die, had it not been necessary to live on as well and as long as she could for the sake of her children. COnnicooolks (CO)