The String of Pearls; or, The Barber of Fleet Street — page 308: what you’re looking at

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

4 4 S ot, * 4 * i a tire a re = > oe See Pn 36 nos (Fa re nN eR oe no ere ates eens Siteee — $$$ ——$ — 300 THE STRING OF PEARLS. | eS ‘Yes, yes,” said Mr. Villimay, who was the senior churchwarden. Oh, yes— certainly.” ae And yet,” said the Lord Mayor, “ we must be very cautious. ‘“ Oh, very—very cautious,” cried Villimay. ‘* But a bold front is the best,” remarked Sir Richard. “Yes. As you say, sir, there’s nothing like a bold front,” cried Villimay, Sir Richard, with a quiet smile, said to the under secretary— _ “A very obliging person, you perceive, Mr, Villimay is.” “Oh, very,” laughed the secretary. _Preceded now by the churchwarden, thev all made their way towards the church, but the watchman at the corner of Chancery Lane must have had some- thing upon his mind, he was so very wakeful, for after they had all passed but Crotchet, he looked out of his box, and said—*‘ Thieves !” “ What's that to you?” said Crotchet, facing him with a look of defiance, “eh? Can’t you be quiet when you is told 2” ‘* Murder !” said the watchman, as he began to fumble for his rattle. ‘‘ Hark ye, old pump,” said Crotchet. ‘*I’ve settled eight watchmen atween this here and Charing Cross, and you’ll make nine, if you opens your mouth again.” The appalled watchman shrank back into his box. es, ‘‘ Hight, did you say ?” #, ¥ es." Crotchet took the lantern off its hook in front of the box, and smashed it upon the head of the guardian of the night, whereupon the aforesaid guardian shrank completely down to the bottom of the box, with the fragments of the lantern hanging about him, and said not another word. “i rather think,” said Mr. Crotchet to himself, “as I’ve settled that old fellow comfortable.” f With this conviction upon his mind—the amiability or the non-amiability of # which we shall not stop to discuss—Mr. Crotchet ran hastily after the rest of ,| the party, and stationed himself by the church porch, according to orders. By this time, Mr. Villimay, the churchwarden, bad produced a little gothic-looking | —E =e ——- key, and proceeding to a small side door, he, after some rattling, partly conse- ‘4 quent upon the lock being in a state of desuetude, and partly from personal | nervousness, he did succeed in turning the rusty wards, and then, with an | ominous groan, the door yielded. Sir Richard Blunt had quite satisfied himself that there were no eaves-droppers at hand, so he was anxious to get the party | housed—perhaps in this instance churched would be a more appropriate ex- pression. : “ Gentlemen,” he said, “ the night is stealing past, and we have much to do.” “*That is true, Sir Richard,” said the secretary. ‘‘Come on, Donkin, and let us get through it.”’ The Lord Mayor shook a little as he passed through the little door, last, : having, although king of the city, given the pas to every one of his companions, | upon that most mysterious mission to old St. Dunstan’s church at such an hour. A Perhaps he had a faint hope that they might leave him entirely behind, and shut a the door precipitately, so that he could not get in. If he had any such hope, Wt however, it was doomed, like too many human hopes, to bitter disappointment, for Sir Richard Blunt held the door open for him, saying blandly—. “ Now, my lord. We could not get on without you.” “Oh, thank you—thank you. You are very good.” The Lord Mayor crossed the threshold, and then Mr. Villimay, who had oc- cupied a remote and mysterious position at the back of the door, closed it, and locked it on the inside. ‘‘ If—if you were to lose the key, Mr. Villimay 2” said the Lord Mayor. “Why, then,’’ interposed Sir Richard Blunt, “I'm afraid we should have to stay there until Sunday, unless some couple kindly got married in the mean- time,’ & —_— a ee a, 2 a Sormnetoomtany, $f estan ; pa fie Die! bs as comicbooks.com