The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

7 °: D , ¢ . .. cs ~) , 4 4 \ eas? # a w «4 yrie™ , ™& \ . ry i Ve wy ry 162 alarming, and he suspended all his faculties for a moment to note if Harcourt had been dis- turbed by the slight concussion, Small cause, however, was there for Radstock to fear. A cannon fired in the apartment would acarcely have sufficed to rouse Harcourt from his drunken sleep. it was terrible to think that he should be sent to his Jast account in such a state ; it was ter- rible to think there were no holy or solemn thoughts about him; but little wrecked the savage and relentless assassin what might be the fate of his victim. He made a violent effort to master his emo- tion, and approached the chair in which slept that man, who, whatever might have been his vice, at least deserved not death at the hands of him who had so largely benefited by them, The light was reflected in glittering scintilla- tions from the highly polished blade of the knife, as it shook in the almost nerveless grasp of the murderer. Even then it seemed doubtfnl whether he could summon sufficient courage to do the deed, and it was with slow and torpid ateps that he at length arrived at the back of his victim's chair. The hand of the unhappy man was resting completely upon his chest, so that to strike at his neck was a matter of difficulty and Rad- stock for a moment stood irresolute how to accomplish his hellish designs. ‘To wound him,” he thought, “would be terrible, for then might come a struggle—per- haps cries—and my whole plans would be de- feated, as well as my own safety frightfully endangered. No. He must die!—die at once! The attack must be at once fatal, or not made at all.’ He crept round then to the front of the chair, and stood with the knife raised in his hands, hesi- tating whether to plunge it into his victim's heart, or attempt to move his head, so as to make such an incision in the neck as should insure instant eath, How long this state of things might have lasted it is impossible to say, but it was ended suddenly by an attempt on the part of some person outside the room to open the deor, and when that failed, a violent knocking succeeded, each sound of which went to Radstock’s heart, filling him with the greatest alarm. ‘‘It is Blanche,” he cried, and with a resolu- tion lent him by the critical circumstances in which he was placed, he seized hia victim by the hair, and turning his head back, at one blow plunged the knife in his throat, A half-shriek burst from the wounded man, and he made an effort to rise from his seat, when, by a side-movement of the knife, Radstock nearly separated the head from the body, A gush of blood followed, and then, with one deep groan, Harcourt expired, the head droop- ing upon the breast, and the body remaining huddled up in the chair in much the same atti- tude it had assumed while sleeping. Nothing disturbed the intense stillness of that chamber of death but the incessant knocking on the outside of the door, and that continued THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, for some minutes without intermission, while the murderer stood with the frightful instrnment of death in his hand, from which the blood was slowly dripping on to the floor, making a smal! pool at his feet. ; He cast his eyes downwards and saw the collected mass, when he dropped the knife, ard with staggering steps approached the door. ‘Who knocks? Who knocks?” he gasped. ‘‘ Clement, are you here?” cried Blanche, from without. ‘ They tell me you have returned. Oh! let me speak to you, if it be but for a moment,”’ “*Tis she! ’Tis she!” muttered Radstock. ‘‘She is in time now for the consummation of my hopes.” He openedithe door a little, and there stood Blanche enveloped in a travelling wrapper. “Hal Is it you that I behold? Is he not here ?” She advanced towards the chair, on which she now beheld the form of Harcourt, Radatock hastily quitted the room, and a voice . was heard calling on the staircase, Yet Blanche did not observe it, Her eyes could see nothing but the scene before her ; her senses could understand nothing but the terrible fact, that there—there before her —lay the murdered body of Lord Harcourt, and that she was in the house alone with him—alone with the exception of the servants. The murderer’s face she had not seen. ‘‘Ha!l Clement! Clement !"’ she exclaimed ; “would that you were here.”’ Hardly had she spoken when the voice re- sounded again. ‘*‘ Murder ! help, murder !’’ was the cry. The cries loudly rang through the open house, It was that of Radstock. Blanche stood aghast in the doorway. ‘Who is that who cries murder?’ she ex- claimed in terrified accents. “Who knows of this crime yet, save myself and the one who did it ?” She was soon made acquainted with the cause of the hubbub. In auother instant the servants came crowding up the ataircase, and at their head Harry Martin. He was still attired in a semi-military dreas, but he had taken service specially with Lord Villiers. ‘‘ There,” he cried, “there stands the mur- deress !” A murmur from the servants followed ‘his words, They had all loved her. = The murmur was one of pity less ‘than of abhorrence. “See !’? added Harry Martin, “see how she draws back aghast and guilty! see the blood upon her hands !" Lady Blanche uttered a loud shriek as she glanced at her hands. The man had spoken too truly. Her hands were red with blood, which had | flowed upon them when she had endeavoured to awaken the dead man. Villain !” she cried, addressing Harry Martin, and drawing herself up proudly, “ villain! how dare you accuse me, you who, perhaps, are red-handed from the murder? How came you to know of this crime which J have but just GOVE OOO