The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

es 116 well, and that he was afterwards shot as a traitor.” ‘Then you—the man who saved Morris Lam- bert from death, and his family from disgrace, are none other than——” “Hush!” exclaimed the giant, excitedly ; ‘ Walls sometimes have ears. I am Frank Leslie, the armourer, of the Strand. But tell me who you are!” “J,” returned the man, “I am Morris Lam- bert, and J will save you or die!’ The armourer sprang from the little stone bench on which he had been sitting. “You Morris Lambert! Come near to this dismal light and let us glance at you.” The trooper approached nearer the murky oil lamp, and the armourer glanced earnestly at him. “T see nothing but the eyes of Morris Lam- bert ;”’ he said, “ yet you must be he.” “And J, said Lambert, cannot see in you anything of the youth who saved me, save the noble stature and the expression of features which beamed over me as I lay on the floor bruised and helpless. Oh! I remember it well. A rush of feet, a gleaming sword, clash—clash —clash, afall, and Iwasfree. Ah! my friend,” he exclaimed, becoming enthusiastic, and losing all his gloom and puritanical calmness, “ Ah | the time for gratitude has come at last. I will Bave you or perish !"’ The armourer pressed his hand with much emotion. “Lambert,” he said; “I desire no man to perish to save me; but if you can save me, do ” go, for the sake of my dear children. For them I fear, not for myself. Death has no fears for one, who, like me, has nothing to reproach himself with.” ‘‘ Leslie,” said Lambert, “if Leslie I am now to call you, I shall leave this room in another hour to give place to another watcher. To- morrow I come again. To-morrow evening I will either rescue you or die in the attempt.” At the expiration of the hour, which the friends spent in talking of the plan which Morris proposed, the guard was changed; and in the place of Morris Lambert, there came a tall, thin, gaunt man, against whom Leslie felt prejudiced at once. He scarcely uttered a word, and the armourer was glad when at length sleep came to him, and he was enabled to relapse until morning into forgetfulness of all his sorrows. The next day passed gloomily enough, The guards were changed three times, yet very little conversation took place between them and the armourer. . He was waiting for his friend. There was no possibility of telling the passage of time, except by the changing of the watch, for the cell in which he was confined was so deeply dug out, and so removed from all existence without, that he could not even hear the strik- ing of the church clocks. During the day, however, a faint streak of light broke in through the barred window ; and the cessation of this, proved that the sunlight was over, and that the much-coveted darkness was coming on. About seven o’clock, as nearly as the armourer could guess, Morris Lambert entered the cell. THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, When he did so, he took no notice of his friend, but advanced sullenly as he had done before to the end of the stone seat, which was his post. As soon as the soldiers had gone, however, he said in a low yoice— “‘ My friend, all is prepared. In half an hour we will make the attempt.” ‘¢¥Ia there hope ?” “Great hope,” said Lambert, sadly. “ Is there great danger to yourself in this ?” “No,” said the other, endeavouring to assume an air of cheerfulness, “No; no more danger than is naturalin such an attempt. I feel myself bound to do this. I have said I will save you or perish ; [ will keep my word.” ont armourer rofe and paced the room ex- ze ‘Am I right,” though he, “in accepting this man’s devotion ?” It was a difficult question to decide. On the one hand, there was his daughter whom he dearly loved, and Alicia also, who, although not his daughter, he had sworn to protect. Here was inducement enough to accept the man’s sacrifice, But then— Might not this man have a wife and little children, who would be made unhappy and impoverished by his death? “ Morris Lambert,” he said, “have you a wife?” “T have not,” “ Nor children ?” “ None,” “ You are alone in the world ?” * Yes; the one I loved was taken from me by a Royalist officer. I killed him, and had to fly. I have never loved since,” “ ¥ will permit you to aid me,’’ said Leslie. ‘‘ The time is come,” suddenly cried Lambert ; and a stone as he spoke came rattling through the iron-bars of the little window. ‘That isa signal from a friend who waits for us on the river in a boat. Come.” He approached the door, and taking out a key from his pocket, opened it carefully and noise- leasly and peered ont, All was as still as the grave. * Everything favours us,” said Lambert, as he closed the door after them ; “ the soldiers are at their supper.” Leading the way along the gloomy corridor, in the direction of the chapel, the man presently emerged in the open air. ‘‘Qh! the blessed air of Heaven,’’ murmured the armourer ; ‘‘it feels indeed like freedom.” His companion paid no heed to his words. Either he was eager not to lose time in any unn conversation, or he was over- whelmed with some presentiment of evil. Hurrying on, therefore, he led the way te- wards the river terrace, which steod there on that side of the yard. There was the river now below them, twink- ling beneath the many stars, and already the boat could be seen dancing beneath the shadow of the stone-wall ; when, as if rising from the ground, ten soldiers sprang up between them and liberty. " “Ab, ab !” shouted a tall thin trooper. “You LEDOO eS HER LY