The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 294: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XXIII THE CONSULTATION Ir was between eight and nine o’clock in the evening of the same day, that the Hangman knocked at the door of Bencull’s dark crib in Mill Street, Jacob’s Island. He was no longer apparelled in his Sunday’s best, having put off his gaia garb on his return from Larry Sampson’s house; and he was now attired in his usual coarse and rufhan-looking style. ‘“Who’s there?’’ demanded the well-known voice of Bencull from within. “Mr. Dan’el Coffin,’”? was the answer, accompanied by » a peculiar whistle. “ All right!’’ said Bencull; and the next moment the door was opened. “ Anybody here yet?’”’ demanded the Hangman, as he entered the passage of that ominous-looking house. “No, nobody yet,’ replied Bencull, as he closed and bolted the street door. | “So much the better,’’ observed Coffin; ‘“‘ because I want to speak to you very particular indeed.”’ The two men proceeded into the back room which has been described in a previous chapter. Liquor and pipes were produced; and when the glasses were filled and the blue wreaths of the tobacco-smoke were curling upward, Bencull said, ‘‘ Now, old fellow, what is it? ”’ “ Well, my worthy friend,” responded the Hangman, looking moodily solemn and savagely serious as he spoke, “lve made a discovery to-day that regards me, you, everybody pretty nearly that we know, and thousands of folk besides.”’ ‘ What the devil do you mean, Dan’el? ”’ exclaimed the landlord of the dark crib, taking his pipe from his mouth | 277 ECOMNICLOO© Ss (SO)