The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 226: what you’re looking at

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

eS et 220 of the recesses of the bridge: they were Gipsy George and one of his companions. “ Mike,” whispered the former, with a broad grin upon his countenance, and pointing at the same time to our hero, as he stood absorbed in his reflections, ‘that gentry cove is moonstruck, I suppoee.” “] yonder if his ticker goes?” quietly observed the other. “Tt will soon be gone,” was the reply, “ if he stands much longer staring there like the statee without his hat at Charing Cross. My eyes, Mike,” he added, “ do you twig his fawny? What a sparkler! fifty couter, at least.” Gipsy George alluded to a large diamond ring—a family relic, the gift of his grandfather, which Fitz- gerald invariably wore. The gem glittered in the moonlight as the wearer’s ungloved hend rested on the parapet of the bridge. The speakers exchanged glances of consultation and doubt with each other; the opportunity was tempting; there was no other passenger near, and the youthful appearance and abstracted air of the gentleman pro- mised but slight resistance. “What do you say, George ?—he looks a green ’un —shall we, eh?” “ Why, no,” reluctantly drawled out his companion, “ T’ve retired from the purfession, and, damn it, no— no risks, Come on; the old woman will be waiting for us.” At this moment Gerald, corscious of the attention he had excited, but without the slightest suspicion of their motives, resumed his walk, directing his steps towards the park. “Taken wing,” growled Mike; “I wish Aarcn Wolf had been with me,” “ Why so.” “He has not retired from the purfession,” replied the disappointed: thief, with a sneer; “he has pluck— pluck to the back-bone.” “And 1?” fiercely demanded the gipsy, stang by the implied doubt of his courage. “Oh, you,” said his companion, with a bitter langh, “you are ’spectable new—cull of aken. I chouldn’t be surprised if, one of these days,” he added, “you don’t go to Blether’s Hall, get taken in tow by Holy Joe, and made a constable of. You wouldn’t be the first retired cracksman or smasher vet had risen to preferment.” “Shouldn’t 1?” growled Sedler, working himself into a rage. “No, yer wouldn’t,”’ continued the angry Mike. “The cove is gone into the park. Follow me,” said the gipsy; “you shall then see if 1 have Jost my pluck, or forgot my old trade. Had any but an old pal like yourself, Mike, doubted my courage, I’d have given him a taste of my knife,” “All right, George,” growled his companion, satisfied that he had stung him into compliance; “sling out, or we shall lose the pigeon; remember the bird is worth plucking.” Fitzgerald had not proceeded more than a third of his way across the park before he was suddenly arrested by a rough grasp upon his shoulder, and a demand, uttered in a gruff voice, of “ Your money or your life!” * Highwaymen!” exclaimed our hero. “ Nufin of the sort. Gentlemen of the road,” “We vont to know the time,” added Sedler, at the same time drawing our hero’s watch from his fob. “And has occasion,” continued Mike, “to borrow puss, cos our banker’s stopped.” eee -__ THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, — ~The contents of ntents of Fitzgerald’ 8 pocket were conveyed at the eame time to the speaker's, * Ruffians!” “ Manners,” said Sedler; “I took you for a gentry cove, but I see you are only a valet vot has stolen his master’s ring. I'll restore it to him.” The attempt which the villain made to pasha trate from Fitzgerald’s finger roused him completely from his dreamy apathy. Suddenly exerting his great strength, he shook himself from the grasp of Mike, who held him, and struck him a blow with his clenched fist which sent him senseless on the ground. Gipsy George was astonished, but his blood was up, and the brutal passions of his nature roused. Like a famished wolf, he sprang upon our hero, and a brief, desperate struggle was the consequence, Our hero’s youthful frame was half crushed beneath the gigantic efforts of his adversary, and had he not been an excellent wrestler, he must have yielded to his superior strength. At length they fell, like serpents knotted in folds; their limbs were twined together, and their heaving chests swollen with their desperate efforts. Sedler, for once, had met his match; strong as he was, it is difficult to say how the contest would have ended, had not his quick ear, as he lay upon the ground, caught the sound of hurrying foot- steps, and told him that his victim’s cry for assistance had been heard. “Take your hand off my throat!’ he whispered ferociously. Fitzgerald tightened his grasp. The ruffian felt that not a moment was to be losk Suddenly disengaging one of his hands from his anta- gonist, he thrust it into his pocket, drew forth his knife, and opened the blade with his teeth. Fitz- gerald saw his danger, but his presence of mind did not desert him. By a sudden movement of his body he reeeived the blow, directed at his heart, in the fleshy part of his arm—the knife penetrated to the bune Before the gipsy could repeat the stroke, several per« sons came to the spot, and our hero was relieved from his dangerous position. Two of the park- keepers secured the robber, whilst the rest disarmed him. “Are you much hurt, sir?” demanded one of the men, as our hero coolly removed his cravat, and bound it round his arm to stanch the blood, which flowed freely. “ Not seriously. But there is another of the villains somewhere,’ observed Gerald; “ I saw him fall,” “This is a hanging matter,” observed one of the captors; “robbery and an attempt at murder. Look for him—forty pounds more!” Sedler, despite his hardened courage, shuddered; he knew the sum the speaker named to be the price of blood. Mike, who was just recovering from the tremendous blow which our hero had dealt him, was quickly secured, and the party adjourned to the neighbouring police-office, where it fortunately happened that the magistrate was sitting. “Now, my man,” he demanded, as soon as he had listened to the charge, “what is your name, and where do you reside?” “TI shall answer no questions,” replied the gipsy, sullenly, “without the advice ef my lawyer. I'ma respectable man auc a housebolder.” “ Doubtless,” drily observed his worship, “ very reapectable. And your name?” he added, turning to | Mike. “But perhaps you share in the objection of your respectable friend ?” “JT should think I does,” replied the fellow, with a “ * EGomicidooks.co