Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 242: what you’re looking at

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

MR. PAGE’S RESEARCHES 295 he alighted; and, having dismissed the vehicle, began to take, as well as he could possibly remember, the same route which he had traversed in a contrary direction on the previ- ous night. Plunging into the maze of dark, dirty, and dangerous streets, he found that it was no easy task to trace a particular course in such a wilderness of brick and mortar, without the knowledge of even the names of the various thoroughfares. But Page was not readily baffled; he had a grand object in view, and never had he felt so bold and so enterprising. By dint of perseverance he began to discover certain salient features which he remembered to have noticed on the former occasion: here, for instance, was a tavern with a flagstaff on the roof, there was the local roundhouse, or cage, with the watchman’s box at the side; here was a carrier’s establish- ment, with two or three vans standing in the street, there was a blacksmith’s forge, where the heavy hammers rang, and the glowing furnace blazed all night long; here, again, was a public-house with another remarkable sign that could not fail to be recognized even in the darkness, and there was a low boozing-ken, the door of which being always open, afforded the passers-by a view of the loathsome interior, the aspect of which would not be very readily forgotten. Thus picking his way, and ever and anon recognizing points or features which might be termed the landmarks of the district, Mr. Page at last succeeded in discovering the court whereof he was in search. For a moment his heart failed him as he plunged his looks up the low entrance-arch- way and thought of the noisome dungeon at the end; but when he beheld lights gleaming from many windows, his courage revived, for he thought within himself, ‘‘ All the inhabitants of this court cannot be thieves or murderers; and as neither the Magsman nor his adherents should capture me without a desperate resistance on my part, assistance would surely arrive from some quarter or another in answer to my cries.”’ As this reflection passed through his mind, the commercial traveller mechanically placed his hands upon his coat pockets _ to feel whether his pistols were safe; and at the same time he turned boldly into the court. Not a soul was to be seen, all the doors were shut, but shouts of revelry and boisterous mirth came from some of COMIC OOO <S) (©)