The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 323: what you’re looking at

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

aw 302 “ Scaralache,” said the Italian, fiercely, “ you are trying to ruin me |” ‘‘T am not,” replied Scaralache, with a smile. “ You are trying to rvin me !”’ ‘You lie, hypocrite,” returned the Italian, fiercely ; ‘“‘but never mind, I have you in my power, and, fear not, I will use my power to the utmost.” The mountebank looked into his face with a look of astonishment. He was truly bewildered at the words of the talian. Could he by any possibility know of the pre- sence in his tent of Harold Fordyce and the armourer f “You are talking like a madman,” said Scaralache, polishing his tamborine. : “ No, I am not,” cried the Italian, ‘no, I am not; I am epeaking truth. Before nightfall I can place both you and your friends whom you have concealed here, in a dungeen, aye, & stronger one than the one from which they have so lately escaped. Aye, tremble ; it would be better for you to have died in peace, than thus risked your neck and cast your daughter on the world for strangers.” Old Scaralache flung himself in terror on his knees as the Italian said these words solemnly at the same time pointing downwards, as if in dicating the grave which was in reserve for im. ‘Oh! mercy,” he cried, “ye would not— could not—be so cruel, good Paolo,” The Italian smiled grimly. * Since when,” he said, “have I been good Paolo?” ‘‘ Always, always ; we have only been rivals— rivals in a noble profession. Who could shame you and your beautiful wife?” “A truce to your flattery,” cried the Italian “ Upon certain conditions your friends shall be saved, though they are English, and I like not. the English,” “Very good,” said Scaralache, rising; “name your terms.”’ “*'You are rich ?” The mountebank raised aloft his skinny hands deprecatingly, ‘‘Nay, good Paolo,’’ he exclaimed, “this is no time for jeating.” ‘‘T jest not, You are rich, bat you are a miser.”’ “You are mad, if you do not joke. I have nothing.” ‘‘ Let it be so, then,”’ said the Italian; “if you have no wealth, it is useless to endeavour to treat with you. Yonder are the guards. I will go and give them information.” He moved away asif to leave the tent, Tbe old mountebank, however, detained him. ‘‘Nay, then,” he said, “I will give you money ; at least, these gentlemen will. How mach do you wish?” ‘‘A hundred gold pieces.” “ Good !” cried Harold Fordyce, advancing, “Good! We will give you the money, if, after dark, you will bring us three disguises and three horses to this tent.” The Italian’s eyes glistened, “I¢ shall be done,” he said, “J will go and strike my tent, and pass on to Paris at once. Ab! Giulis,” he added, to his wife, as soon as THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, they were beyond earshot, “ this will be a good night's work—a hundred golden pieces from the English traitors, and the reward also from the king. Come, Giulia, let us hasten !’’ The traitor’s wife looked up with a smile into his eyes. ‘And you will buy me pretty things, and let me stay n Paris, for a time, like a lady?” she said, “Yes, Guelia,” said the man ; “but to get the reward we must be very discreet,” “ How mean you, Paolo?’ ‘‘ Why, I must make terms with the authori- ties; I shall tell them that at ten o'clock to- night the French spy and the two English traitors will pass the count’s house.” “Yes,” * And then, at half-past nine, I will take them their horses, and obtain their reward first, be- fore they fall into the hands of the soldiery.” “T gee, now; Paolo, you always were s0 clever,” said Guelia, admiringly. Two traitors, The Young Apprentice watched them as they er up their tents, and passed away towards aris. ‘We muat be careful of them,” he said, “they may mean mischief even now,” ‘“T fear so, myself,” said Scaralache ; “ but I will keep good watch,” The dusky mantle of night at length fell over all nature. Eagerly, our fugitives looked out along the road towards the French capital. At length achurch clock pealed forth the hour of nine. “The time and the person will soon arrive, let us hope,’’ said the count. And so they did, The Italian came alone. “Now,” said the wily Italian, ‘‘here are your horses, Where are the handred gold coins ?” “They are here,” said Harold; “take them. Count them, and eee that all is right.” Paolo did so, “They are right,” he said, with glistening eyes, as he placed them in his girdle. ‘There are your horses; and there,” he added, in thought, “are awaiting you, those who will soon convey you to a dungeon.” He had reckoned wrongfully, however, in this instance. In another moment he found himself seized from behind. A gag was placed over his mouth, his legs and his arms were tied, and he was helpless. ‘Now, my friend,’’ said the Count de Beanu- ville, ‘‘ we have you securely, and if we find that you have deceived us, we will ecnd a bullet through your head, Come my friends, let us hasten.” ‘Wo are all ready,” said Harold, as he slipped some gold pieces of the value of twenty shillings into the band of old Scaralache ; gome, which is the nearest route ?”’ ‘‘If we take the road by my house we shall arrive quickly at a point where we can obtain. ises, and make with all speed towards the coast.” At the words “the road by my house,” the Italian made the most violent contortions of his face and body. GOMES O16S