The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 346: what you’re looking at

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

THE CRIME 315 “No, no! the whole neighbourhood will be alarmed,” whispered this individual, as he once more clutched the Burker by the arm. ‘““ Ah! what’s this?” cried a voice from within, at the same instant that the handle of the door was heard to turn, and the key pendent to the wire knocked against the panel. Barney dashed the door violently open, and a heavy fall was heard, instantaneously followed by a cry for help. Then the Burker dealt a tremendous blow with the butt end of a pistol which he snatched forth from his pocket, and Bab Smedley, suddenly recalling all her courage, rushed in with the light. The lodger lay upon the floor, low moans escaping from his lips, but those quickly ceased, as the remorseless Burker dealt him another terrific blow with his weapon, — a blow which beat in the unfortunate victim’s forehead. It was done, the murder was accomplished, and that victim was no more. It was evident that being disturbed by the noise at the door, he had got out of bed to ascertain what was the matter; he had huddled on his pantaloons, and he was about to open the door to listen whether all was quiet, or whether there were indeed anything wrong going on in the house, when the circumstance of his hand encountering the wire and the key had confirmed his terror and had caused an ejaculation to fall from his lips. There he now lay upon the floor, a corpse, with his forehead battered in. ‘“Come, you fool,” said Bab Smedley to her husband, ‘“‘ don’t stand like a coward there — ”’ ‘““No coward, Bab. That feeling is gone,’ interrupted Jack, whose courage now likewise returned, the fear of danger being suddenly passed. ‘ Let’s look after the swag.” ‘““ Ay, that’s it,’’ said the Burker, ‘‘ and dispose of the stiff’'un arterward. Well, the job was done neat enough arter all, though I tell you what, Master Jack, no thanks to you if we didn’t make a mess of the whole affair. You and me has done two or three things in our lifetime, but I never see you get so chicken-hearted afore.”’ “It wasn’t the thing itself I was afraid of,’’ answered Smedley, by no means relishing these taunts; ‘‘ it was the fear of having the whole neighbourhood roused.”’ ‘“ And so you would, if it hadn’t been for me,” rejoined EOMINGIOOKS (CO)