The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 366: what you’re looking at

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——s 352 Vranklin, applying a vile epithet to the young woman. “ But never mind! I dare say ¥ “ What is that you are muttering to yourself, you _ wretch?” exclaimed Nell Gibson, turning round to- wards the old woman with eyes flashing fire. “You'll know, you’ll know soon enough,” re- sponded the harridan, still muttering ina scarcely audible tone as she reeled towards the staircase to ascend to her own chamber. Nell Gibson turned in deep disgust away, and fol- lowed the Buttoner from the house. “Now, what has happened?” she inquired the moment they were in the street together. ‘T musn’t tell yer till we get down to the dark crib,” said the Buttoner: “and then you'll know alle. 4 The tone in which he spoke was low, deep, and ominous; and therefore Nell Gibson naturally in- ferred that the deed had been done and that Larry Sampson was murdered. No misgiving as to any- thing else entered her mind; and not for a moment could she conceive that the plot had failed and that the most terrible suspicions existed against herself. That the Buttoner woula not tell her more nor enter into the slightest particulars in the street, seemed but a proper precaution; and the only circumstance that struck her as being at all singular, was that she _should be fetched down to the dark crib at that _ hour. “ What am I wanted for at Bencull’s?” she there- | fore asked,as she and the Buttoner proceeded rapidiy towards Jacob’s Island. “ Don’t ask me a single question now,” he replied, in a hurried and even tremulous voice: for vile and criminal as he was, he could not contemplate with utter indifference the murder of that fine young woman who was now leaniny on his arm. They continued their way in silence; and ina few minutes reached the dark crib. Bencull opened the street-door; and the moment Nell Gibson en- tered the back room, she perceived by the looks of the Hangman, the Mushroom Faker, and the Durry- nacker that something was ominously amiss. Turn- ing towards the Buttoner for an explanation, she saw that the expression of his countenance was dogged and sombre as if marked with the iron impress of some stern resolve: and then as her glance, now keen with augmenting terror, travelled to the features of Bencull as he came in last and closed the room- door behind him, she read her doom as it were inthe looks of that dreadful man. But not choosing to anticipate any evil—and indeed utterly unable to conjecture whence it could spring 80 as to assume an aspect at all menacing towards herself—she said in that tone of inquiry which an accomplice adopts when demanding an explanation as a right, “ Now will you tell me what has been the result of this night’s enterprise ?” “Tis for you to tell us what Larry Sampson gave you for betraying the plot!” exclaimed the Hangman in a voice of thunder, as he turned his ferocious looks full upon the now really dismayed and startled young woman. “ Yes—how much did you get?” demanded Ben- cull, with equal ferocity of voice and look. “Whatever may have happened, I did not be- tray you—I swear that I did not!” said Nell Gib- Son, now recovering somewhat of her presence of mind, while indignation deepened the colour upon her cheeks to the ruddiest glow. | ——— -- me ee ee re ee eae er ee OU'O™—” THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. “ I knew she would deny it,” said the Hangman, his eyes literally glowering upon her. “ Why, you she-devil! Larry Sampson has not only baulked us and had the laugh at us, but he also knew that me, Bencull, and the Buttoner was the chaps that | did the business t’other night at the Baronet’s il * Yes—and he knowed ail about Coffin’s intend- | ing to go and get the great book,” added Bencall, with such a concentrated ferocity that his voice sounded like the subdued roar of a wild beast. * J am innocent of all this!” said Neil Gibson, her presence of mind rapidly failing. * You lie!” thundered the Hangman. “We are certain that you have betrayed us: who else could have done it? Besides, we know more of your nasty sneaking tricks than you fancy 4 “Yes, look here,” suddenly cried the Buttoner, © producing Nell Gibson’s own letter to Sir Douglas Huntingdon—that letter which she had penned at Mev Blowen’s, and which her paramour had subse- quently obtained from the boy to whom she had entrusted it for delivery. * Ah!” she ejaculated, becoming pale as death —for she saw that her doom was inevitable: and now, though she tried to speak, the words stuck in her throat, and terror subdued all further power of utterance, “You see she’s guilty—there’s no doubt of it!” said the Hangman: and suddenly flinging off his coat, he actually tucked up his shirt-sleeyes in order more efrectually to do the work of death. At the same instant Bencull threw a silk hand- kerchief round Nell Gibson’s neck; and placing his hand forcibly over her mouth, he prevented her from screaming. ‘The other ruffians, not even excepting the Buttoner, now flew upon her like so many wild beasts upon their prey; and while some held her hands and feet, the others tugged hard at the handkerchief in order to strangle her. She struggled desperately, though in the iron grasp | of those strong men: her cloak and bonnet were torn off—and her’hair streamed down in wild dis- _ order. Hard, Hard did she fight against death: fearful was the convulsive tenacity with which the unfortunate girl clung to life! But gradually those strong spasmodic struggles grew weaker and weaker; and in a few more instants all was over | The villains might have despatched her muvre speedily by the pistol, the knife, or the bludgeon: but they were afraid of exciting the attention of the neighbours by the report of fire-arms—and they were equally careful of spilling blood, which would leave its traces upon the floor—inasmuch as the attention of Mr. Lawrence Sampson had now eyi- dently become fixed upon the dark crib. But the work of murder was effectually done by means of strangulation: and when the appalling deed was accomplished the Buttoner suddenly burst into tears and cried like a child. “ What the devil is the meaning of this blubber- ing ?” demanded the Hangman, with a terrible im- precation. “Tv’s nothink—on’y a sort of nervous fit that I can’t help for the moment,” whimpered the But- toner. “ There—take her away—take her away— don’t let her stare up at me with those eyes that are fixed and duil as if made of glass!—take her away, I say !’—and the strong man shuddered from head to foot with hysterical convulsions, i ; | } } ECORNICLOO (C <S (€@)