The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

we ae ie (“ps 208 T red hangings, and a variety of grim old pictures surrounding the dark-panelled walls. ‘This bedroom is for you, sir,” he said, addressing Harold; “and this other chamber, which leads into this, is for your friend.) My mistress thought you would like to be together.” The inner room was a much smaller one, but was nevertheless fitted up with every comfort. “Do you require anything more, gentlemen f’’ said the domestic. “ No, I thank you.” . * Good night, then, gentlemen, and may you sleep well.” With a bow the serving-man left them, and, as soon as he was gone, Harold hastened to examine the state of the door fastenings. ‘You are wonderfully carefal,” said the armourer, as he watched the movements of the Young Apprentice. — : ‘Yes; I think care is needed.” ‘‘ And yet fear is not in general one of your faulis.” . This was the second taunt which the armourer had used, Harold started, and looked round, Earnestly he glanced into the face of his master, Was he dreamia;? Were his senses t«. ring him, or had the look of Frank Leslie changed with his voice, and his manner, and his kindness of heart ? Was this his master ? gain he gazed at the figure of his companion. There could surely be a0 mistake. . There was the giant form; there the broad shoulders ; there were the well-known features. “Of what are you thinking, boy?” asked the giant, retreating more into the shade. “Of your unkind words,” ““Unkind words? Surely you rarely accuse your master of unkindness.”’ . “No; but he rarely accuses me of fear,” “I did but joke. Your precautions are necessary, no doubt. At any rate, in this,‘as in all things, it is best to be on the safe side.” In a few moments Harold Fordyce had fastened securely the bolts of the chamber door, and all was ready for rest. The two friends then separated, and, with mataal good wishes, returned to their respective 8, . ‘ Althougt meses though w however, tks Young A . tice could not slesp. oe When he did : a off, visions of the most extraordinary kind disturbed him. . | Enemies without number surrounded and pursued him. Hideous forms hovered over ‘his bed, and threatened his destruction. The image of Ettie Leslie, in all her vir simplicity and beauty, came tenderly before him at one moment. Then came the face of Lady Grace Cowley scowling at him, fiend-like and triumphant, The visions were so clear, that*sleep was quite impossible. t was useless to keep his head securely on the pillow, and close hie eves. f — Visions pursued him even more strongly THE YOUNG APPRENTICE. Presently, as he lay on his bao¥, glaring through the half-closed curtains at the foot of his bed, at the cold, blue sky, and the colder-looking moon, he heard a creaking noiee without, At first he set it down to fancy. He had been so racked by presentiments, that he set this down to nervousness, After a moment, however, it was repeated. This time more loudly. Some one was opening the door from without, atealthily and slowly. Tanking Providence that he had taken the precaution to place his pistols close at hand, Harold seized them, and, still remaining beneath the bed-clothes, listened. After a few moments, the door opened. Eagerly Harold watched it. e In his own heart he almost expected what he saw. ’ It was a woman who entered—a woman young and beautiful, with long glossy curls falling over bare shoulders, and as the light of the lamp fell upon her face, Harold recognised it at once. It was that of Lady Grace Oowley. “ Trapped, by Heavens!’ he murmured, as he watched her form gliding along the bed room. He watched ber eagerly. After taking one ‘glance at the bed whereon he lay, she, passed towards the chamber of the armourer, Here she entered, and closed the door behind ‘Tam right in my suspicions,” cried Harold, in an audible whisper. ‘' Frank Leslie has been, by some mysterious means, spirited away from me, and this man who isso near to me is his double and my deadly foe. Now is my time, I must escape,”’ The word was a pleasant one to murmur to himself. -The idea was a pleasant one to con- template. But ita performance—how was that to be accomplished ? Lady Grace Cowley had fastened the door behind her when she entered, and taken the key with her. . . What could be done ? There was no time for delay. - The window—that was his only chance. Creeping out of bed noiselesaly, still holding his pistol tightly clenched in his hand, he approached the casement. - All was very dark without—so dark, in fact, that he could not see the trees which waved around the old house. ’ What if there was a fal of fifty feet below the window —just such another as that which plunged Lady Oowley’s unole headlong to his t There was little time for thought, however, a0, raising the window-sash gently, he gazed out. Ben the window ran a terrace, or rather a battlement. ' 6 Saved!" he murmured, as he leaped out into the darkness, and closed it carefully after him. His exclamation was, however, premature. The battlement, or terrace, had no outlet. To reach the ground, he would have to mount the wall, and descend either by a rope or by casting himself down. The latter was out of the question, and where waa the rope! GOVE OO © eS NOTICE.— ANOTHER BVAUTIFUL PICTURB, PRINTED IN SEVEN COLOUR NAG ws WAS GIVER AWAY WITH NO. 32. Others will follow in a few weeks. » oes CO