The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 359: what you’re looking at

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

e™\ 338 bean act of justice, Yow shal] never live to reap the benefit of your treachery—for I will destroy you with my own hands.” Ralph Lawson started round, as may be ima- gined, with an eager, nervous start. But if he had hoped to see his enemy he was wrong. No one was there. The warning friend, who was none other than Max Bowden, the old friend of Harold Fordyce, had disappeared. “‘ Lucy's warning is not the only one,” said he, as he crept in among the shadows to await the departure of the rest of the Apprentices. e had not long to wait. The room was soon cleared of ita late occu- nts, and having ‘seen all the lights put out ph soon proceeded towards the comer o the dark court where he expected to meet kis mysterous friend. He had not long to wait. In a few moments there emer;.ed from a dark corner the talland heavy form of the assassin of Blackheath. ‘You are come ?”’ he said. “Yes; I am here to my time,” saté Balph Lawson; “I promised, and I have kept my word, as I always do.”’ “ And now what news do you bring me?’ “I bring none,” said Ralph, “except that I have put thé question to the society, and they have not refused.” “Tell me all.” As he spoke, he passed his strong arm within that of his companion and drew him away. Before half an hour had passed, the whole of the proceedings of the society had been ex- plained. The tall, gaunt man—thé assassin of the dark heath—the double of the armorter, had ex- tracted all from Ralph Lawson; Then his cold, chilled hand atid into tie palm of him who was yet alive with the wild passions of young life. And the life seemed ie flew out with the touch, and the passion to die away with the con- tact, and the memory of love ang mspect, and all the dearly- bought ties of youth faded away; and Ralph Lawson, when he stood at the jeweller’s door, was a changed man ! CHAPTER IV- THE MISTAKEN FRIEND — THB CAPTURE — IN THE POWER OF A WORSE VILLAIN —THE LIBERTINE AND HIS VIOCTIM—THE SCENE IN THE BOUDOIR. WHEN THE MAN WITHOUT A NAMB entered the house of Sir Henry Hastings, and carried off with him the newly-made bride of Rupert Changeling, he carried her down, senseless as she was, to the river side, and placed her in a boat. He had not proceeded far before the sounds of music struck upon his ear, and the plash of quick oars following in his track. He took no notice of it at first. The man who was rowing him was one whom he could trust well. He had no cause to suspect treachery. He was wrong. : THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, Those who had pursued him so far knew well what he was doing. Darvil, the waterman, when he saw Lord Leicester fall, had hastened to Lord Lovaine—a young noble, who had on many occasions, though in vain, plied his suit with Alicia Leslie—and informed him of all that had happened. There was scarcely time for the young noble to make his way towards the Temple Gardens, bat leaving all his boon companions at the “ Three Puritans” (which used to be the “ Three Cava- liers”) he entered Darvil’s boat and pulled to- wards the house of Sir Henry Hastings. He was in fine spirits. Well he might be, if his own anticipations had any chance of being realised. From the description of Darvil, the waterman, he imagined that there was such a disturbance, that during the mélée he would be able to enter the house unperceived and carry off the bride. He laughed te himself again and again, as he approached the Temple. “ By jove,’” he said, “ our young spark will be disappointed after all of the pleasure he has been so long anticipating. The lovely Alicia Leslie will yet be mine, and that too, if I am not mis- taken, without troubling me much,” So Lord Lovaine alwgys thought. He was g libertine e first water. One of men wid always imagine women at ghelr feet, 4 n rowéd on gaily. He itgle guessed how éorely he would have to ae #¢ for his prize. He had scarcely reacted the Temple stairs whed be saw a boat beneath the wall. ¥oa have betrayed me, Darvil,” he said. “ Wo, no,” said the waterman, with a laugh, “ Grety one seems to know what kind Zr affair gress at Sir Henry Hastist#s’ house fits night, ead all are resolved to thwart it,” “ Nevertheless, I am right,”said Lord Lovaine, excitedly ; “ see, even no “ are handing her into the boat, Quick! quick | A hun crowns i? you catoh them.” | Darvil lost no time in obeying. Lovaine was rich. | The man knew the offer to be no idle boast. Swiftly the light wherry flew over the dark bosom of Father Thames. It gained visibly upon those they pursued. ‘¢ Hold !’ cried Lovaine. A mocking laugh was the answer. “ Hold, I say,” repeated Lovaine. « Why ?” ‘¢ In whose name /” “ In the name of Sir Henry Hastings.” Again the mocking laugh. Then the boats earat one another in the silence. Darvil towed swiftly. He had served one master, and deceived his other master. He imagined him to be stark and dead. Why should he not find another ? So, as I have said, he dashed on eagerly. The boats, at length, grated against one another. * Yield |” cried Lovaine. ‘' Never |"’ cried the other, in a ster véice, GOVE OOO LS