The String of Pearls; or, The Barber of Fleet Street — page 247: what you’re looking at

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

THE STRING OF PEARLS: 239 both sprawling to the bottom of the little staircase together. Luckily they had not to fall, for they had not been more than six or eight steps from the foot of the little flight. Terror and consternation for a few moments deprived each of them of the power of speech. The beadle, however, was the first to recover, and he in a stentorian voice called— , “Murder! Murder!’’ Then the churchwarden joined in the cries, and they buffeted each other in vain efforts to rise, each impeding the cther to a degree that rendered it a matter of impossibility for either of them to get to their feet. Mr. Vickley, who was waiting in the church above, with no small degree of anxiety, the report from below, heard these sounds of contention and calls for help with mingled horror. He at once made arush to the door of the church, and, no doubt, would have endangered the success of all Sir Richard Blunt’s plans, if he had not been Fangit in the arms of a tall stout man upon the very threshold of the church oor. ‘*Help ! murder! Who are you?” ‘Crotchet they calls me, and Crotchet’s my name. London my birth place, is yourn the same? What’s the row ?” “Call a constable. There’s blue murder going on in the vaults below.” “The devil there is. Just you get in there, will you, and don’t you stir for your life, old fellow.”’ | So saying, Mr. Crotchet, who knew the importance of secrecy in the whole transaction, and who had been purposely awaiting for Sir Richard Blunt, thrust Vickley into a pew, and slammed the door of it shut. Down fell the overseer | to the floor, paralysed with terror; and then Mr. Crotchet at once proceeded to the opening in the floor of the church, and descended without a moment’s hesi- tation. ‘“‘Hilloa!” he cried, as he alighted at the bottom of the stairs upon the churchwarden's back. ‘* Hilloa, Sir Richard, where are you ?” ‘* Here,” said a voice, and with the torch nearly extinguished, Sir Richard Blunt made his appearance from the passage. ‘‘ Who is there ?”’ ‘* Crotchet, it is.’’ vue “Tndeed. Why, what brought you here ?” ** What a row.” ** Why—-why, what’s all this]? You are standing upon somebody. Why bless my heart it’s———”’ Out went the torch. ** Fire !—help !—murder !” shouted, the beadle, I’m being suffocated. ‘‘ Oh, conwulsions! Here’s a death for a beadle. Murder! robbery. Fire—oh—oh —oh.” The churchwarden groaned awfully. “Ascend, and get a light,” said Sir Richard. ‘ Quick, Crotchet, quick! | God only knows what is the matter with all these people.” | | Both Crotchet and Sir Richard Blunt scrambled over the bodies of the church- _ warden and the beadle, and soon reached the church. The churchwarden made _ a desperate effort, and, shaking himself free of the beadle, he ascended likewise, and rolled into a pew, upon the floor of which he sat, looking a little deranged. “Tf you don’t comeup,” said Sir Richard Blunt, directing his voice down the _ staircase, ‘‘ we will replace the stone, and you may bid adieu to the world.’’ _. Conwulsions!” roared the beadle. ‘‘ Oh, don’t—conwulsions!’’ Up he tumbled, with the most marvellous celerity, and rolled into the church, never stopping until he was brought up by the steps in front of the communion- _ table, and there he Jay, panting and glaring around him, having left his cocked | hat in the regions below. Sir Richard Blunt looked ghastly pale, which Crotchet » _ observing, induced him to take a small flask from his pocket, filled with choice brandy, which he handed to his chief. * Thank you,” said Sir Richard. Pewee seen comicbooks.com