The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 345: what you’re looking at

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

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, on the benches, amused themselves, while they waited for the atrong ale, by singing in chorus, ‘“ Here’sa health to Bonnie Prince Charlie ;” the echoes of which went rolling away over the dusky heath. Meanwhile, leaving these gsy roysterers to commence their secret meeting, as if they had gathered together for the purpose of simple carousal, we must ask our readers to accompany us to the river’s side, not far distant from the old house. Here, upon a desolate-looking shore, stood an old boathouse, with a wooden hut near it, now long neglected, and suffered to fall into decay. The boathouse itself, built of stouter material than the wooden shed, bore the brunt of storms with a bolder front, and was even now capable of sheltering several boats from the inclemency of the weather ; and in its dark recesses were corners, where 8 man might have, even in the daytime, concealed himself from the observation of inquisitive passers by. And here, now, hidden away among the old timbers, was the tall figure of a man shrouded in a cloak, and looking in the dark night for all the world like one of the supports of the boat- house, He was waiting and watching evidently for some deadly purpose. Else he had not kept so quiet—so silent in the cold and chill air of that night. Presently, along the waters, came the plashing of oars. He started and listened eagerly, clutching to his breast something which he either dearly prized, or some weapon of fearful destruction. Again came the plash of oars nearer and nearer still, and in a few moments the long, thin end of a light skiff came gliding beneath the dark shadows of the boathouse. The watcher could then see that within the boat were two forms—the one that of a gentle- man, the other that of a lady—the former, an old man, with bent form and long white air, the jatter, young and graceful, with bright dark ocks. Towards them, as they prepared to step from the boat, the man who had watched so long, glided, like a serpent, slowly crawling by. ‘* My child,” said the old man, ‘‘ do not stir hence tillI am back. Sit quietly here in the boat, and wrap your cloak around you lest the keen air of night should invade your heart. Farewell, dearest child, I shall not be long.” The old man as he spoke, bent over her, kissed her tenderly, and then passed out of the boat- house, intending to make his way over the dusky heath. But there was one following him whose breast was full of dark and horrid sin. Scarcely had he passed out of the shadow of the boathouse when a knife gleamed in the air behind him, and he fell prone upon his face among the heather. But he was not dead yet. Staggering up upon his knees, he endeavored to cry for help, But the power of speech was nearly gone. The suffocating blood burst from his lips, and he could only clutch at the doublet of his murderer, and murmur, “ Cowardly assassin! I know you well. Oh! my child, my child !” Then, as his eyes glazed; and his heart stilled its beating for ever, and he fell back among the ferns, the clutch of his hand tightened upon the black velvet of the assassin’s coat, and the bright moonlight fell upon the horrid group— the murderer, pale and angry, and in fear, too, struggling to free himself from the clutch of the dead man's hand, and the victim lying back with hia long white hair dabbled in gore, and his white, quiet face turned up towards heaven ! ‘‘ Curse him !’’ cried the assassin, as he was at length obliged to tear away the velvet to free himself from his victim, ‘ I have no time todo away with this evidence of guilt. Never mind, others besides me wear black velvet doublets; I must hasten now to secure her.”’ Hurrying back towards the boathouse, he entered stealthily, and approached the young girl, who sat quietly waiting in the boat, gazing out over the silent river. She was so intently watching the flow of the gushing water, se intently thinking, that she did not observe the coming of the mysterious assassin, who came red-handed from the murder of the old man. The rocking of the boat, however, as he entered it, caused her to start round, and when she did turn she remained for a moment spell- bound. Then she clasped her hands wildly over her eyes as if to shade them from the gleam of light or to hide them from some hideous spectacle. ‘‘Oh! that horrid face!” she cried. ‘ Oh! monster, what do you here ?” “ Yonder on the heath lies your father dead,” was the answer. “ Oh! God! by your hand, and I am here in your power !”’ exclaimed the young girl,in an agony of dread, her words c oming tremulously, her whole being convulsed with emotion. ‘Oh ! help !—help !—help! Is no one near to save me from this monster ?”’ No answer came except from the lips of the assassin, ; All else was still, The dusky heath was tenantless. The workers on the river had long since gone to rest, She was alone, Helpless in the power of her enemy. “You may call out as you please, none will answer,” he said; “but, lest you should betray me when we reach more frequented parts, I will atill your cries for awhile.” As he spoke he took from his pocket a small phial, and, in spite of her struggles, held it close to her nose. The effect was miraculous; almost instanta- neous. With a gentle sigh, as if her spirit were for ever quitting her fair breast, she fell back against the back railwork of the boat, entirely insensible to all outward things, The villain, whose hands were still stained with blood, leaned over ber, and kissed her cherry lips, now cold in her unnatural sleep. ‘‘ Mine! mine !” he murmured, triumphantly, as he pushed his boat out upon the borom of the dark river. GOVE OO ©