The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 292: what you’re looking at

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

re, a \ #@ al THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON. CHAPTER VIII. THE CELL IN THE TOWER—LORD LEICESTER IN CONFINEMENT—THE VOICE WITHOUT—THE TRIAL—THE SENTENCE—THE POISON—THSE DESPERATE RESOLVE—WAITING FOR DEATH —THE OLD GAOLER-—THE ESCAPE. WE muat now return to Leicester. Oar readers will, doubtless, remember that when we last left him, he was in the Tower— that he had been watched into this gloomy place of confinement by Alicia, and that she had given into his hands a phial of poison, which he was to make use of to save himself from a shameful death, if he found that all other means failed. Certainly, if anything was likely to make a man give way to despondency, his present abode was that. The walls were slimy and green with damp, for it was beneath the level of the river; the floor itself was wet and mouldy; the coiling reeked with damp. There was in it, in consequence, a chill and oppressive atmosphere, like that of a long-closed charnel house. ‘Ts this to be my lodging?” asked he of the grey-headed, bent, old man, who was the turn- key of that special department of the Tower. ‘Yes; what's amiss?” ‘Tt is only fit for a dog.” ‘Opinions differ. Look at your bed.” He pointed to a corner. There, upon a raised board, was a heap of dry straw. ‘° Well,” said Leicester. ‘ Tan’t it a good un ?” ‘It is a dog kennel.” The old man laughed. Not a jeering, or a spiteful, or a cruel laugh. It was a laugh of kindlineas, almoat—certainly of merriment caused by Leicester’s words—not his position. “They all say that,” he cried ; “they all say the same—I'm getting used toit now. Ah, me, I’m as much a prisoner as you.” ‘How so? You are simply a servant, and can go or come as you please,” “Ah! you may think so; but itis notso. I was once confined here for an offence which I never committed; but they thought it better for me not to issue forth into the world, because I knew too many of their secrets ; so here I am as gaoler, and were I to attemps to pass the gates, I should be shot. ‘Ab, well! This is a sorry place for a gentleman,” he continued, “but never mind, perhaps you may be saved, and if not, i’s a short shrift, and that’s better than being boxed up in this place all your life, You will find that straw nice and dry. I heard there was a gentleman coming, and so I got it specially for you. Good night, sir.” ‘‘My name is Lord Leicester,” returned the prisoner, proudly. The old man bowed. “Ah! well, my lord,’ he said, “I beg a thousand pardons, I am sure. Ah! well-a-day, well-a-day,” he added, to himeelf, as he passed out, “they keep up their pride to the last, just as King Charles—God save his majesty—but it didn’t do him much good.” Leicester, being left to himself, passed to and fro with long and heavy strides, His mind was in a atate of furious excite- ment. Alicia Leslie, as we must still call her, was the only woman whom he had ever loved. Now, just as he had contrived to shake off the influence of Lord Raymond, at the very moment he had hopes of inducing her to become his wife ere she knew anything of his crimes, he was thrust into prison, and was on the point of being compelled to submit to a trial, where all his criminalities would be made as clear as the light of day. Again and again came before his mind the remembrance of the poison which Alicia had given him. Should he use it? Should he in one instant solve the Awful Question ? Should he cast aside love and life and throw himself into the arms of Eternity without a thought ? No. The idea was banished almost as soon as conceived. The poison: was again thrust into his bosom, for use at a critical moment, and thrawing him- self down on the straw, he resolved to endeavour to obtain a little rest. Men such as Leicester are not overburdened, as a rule, with many longings for slumber. There is too much criminal activity in their minds to permit of somnolescence. Leicester, however, contrived after a time fo fall into a deep sleep. Comparing his present position with that in which hisextreme youth had been passed, brought before him acenes which it made his heart ache to contemplate, and yet pleased memory would recur again and again to the delightful ecenes when he was innocent and happy—when happy maidens could be seen in his father's grounds enjoying themselves with pleasant pastimes, at which he and others of his companions joined. And thinking thus, he dozed off into a deep sleep, from which he did not awake until the beams of the morning sun began to struggle through the bars of his cell. His dreams had been pleasant, even volup- tnous, and when his eyes opened and his glances fell upon the dank and murky cell where he had been immured, his heart sank within him once more. ‘ Curses on my folly!” he said, as he sprang from the straw bed, “curses on my folly! Why did Inot fly to France while there was yet time ? Why did I not quit this accursed country while I was upon the seaboard, where at any moment I could have entered on board a foreign ship and passed over the water? Only give me one chance again and I give them leave to catch me.” Only one chance more, How absurd it seemed, when barred in as he was, What madness, when all was silent and atill as death ; when the city and its life was hidden from him by massive walls; when the only WO, eat rN ai GOVE OO © > <S) CO