The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 347: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee ee eee —-— me ee ee ee ee —e -~eneee = - + — -- THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, oom ~— ey Mi \ } a i ea - al tigen Hi iy nc Hi ii i - 4 * tx. cree Se ie Mies, - —————— “ Pity him! damn him! a shark! have I not stood | fallen both on his heart and mind. He leathed the his friead when all else deserted him—backed his character with the endorsement of my acquaintance till it passed like a bank note ?—and to set a plant on me! Shall we have a window to view the execu- tion ?” “ Frank,” exclaimed his companion, “ if you do net wish to make me hate you, contrive some way to save him, I cannot see him perish on a scaffold for my crime—my heart would wither at the thought.” “With all my heart, There is one way to do it easy enough.” “ How so?” eagerly demanded Wilmott. “Take his place, Oaly you must excuse me if I decline to bear yeu company. I am not yet tired of life and its wild enjoyments; besides, I have a match against Fortune, and intend to play it out. You can do as you please—only don’t spoil my game by your cowardice.” The unhappy man was silent. Deep as was his re- morse, the natural love of life prevailed, and he urged the subject no further. Since the night on which he had stained his soul so deep in crime, a change had 44 pleasures in which he had so lately delighted, bitterly deplored the past, and was determined, with the wreck of his fermer fortune—and it was but a wreck —to retire to the continent, and lead a new life, This resolution, for many reasons, he kept for the present to himself. His faith in the friendship of his com- panion was broken; he feared as well as hated him. As soon as they arrived at the West-end they parted coldly. “Damn him!’ muttered Faddle, with a vague feeling of regret that he had not completed the attempt upon his life, which, on the night of the murder, our readers will recollect he had commenced, “He only wants to fall into the hands of some psalm-singing rascal, to make a clean breast, and die penitent. I must keep a sharp look-out, or he will peach at the last. If I could only engage him in a boat race or a swimming: match, I’d soon settle him. [t may be done,” he added; “it must be done—my safety demands it, and before that consideration all others vanish.” Tkat very day there had been a “ drawing-room,” ] 3 ih (E(0) comiebooks