The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

56 THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, faith in heaven, and a firm belief in the justice of his cause. The conspirators pressed on more eagerly. Harold had to retreat until he was standing flat against the wall. There seemed truly no hope. A wound in the arm showed him that his strength was fast evaporating, and that he would not long be able to keep back his enemies. His arm now could scarcely sustain the weight of his sword ; the light of the fire below seemed to grow more dim ; the crowd of assassins before him became confused ; the place seemed to swim round ; he saw death now staring him in the face. Suddenly, however, the wall seemed to give way behind him ; he felt himself swung round violently ; the fresh air of night blew cool and refreshing on his brow, and he fell heavily to the ground. When he sprang up in bewilderment, he was alone in the street ! In eager gratitude he glanced towards the wall through which he had so mysteriously passed. The mystery was at once explained ! It was the revolving statue which had saved him; the statue, by the side of which the assassin had entered the street on the night when Harold had seen the cavalier murdered, and had himself been attacked and wounded. Imagining, rightly enough, that the men who had so eagerly sought his life would not be willing to allow him 80 easy an escape, he glanced round him fora means of concealing imself. Opposite the armourer’s house, as I have described before, was a dark archway, where, upon a broad ledge, he could lie hidden. Knowing, therefore, that he could hardly have time, even if the opportunity was given him, to enter the armourer’s house, he ran across the gloomy strect and was soon in concealment, He had hardly done so, when the statue of the virgin once more revolved, and the dwarf Quelf emerged, He took a stealthy glance round to see if any one was near. Then seeing that the coast was clear, he whistled loudly and shrilly. Then one by one the conspirators passed into the street. Those who were wounded went slowly away ; while Quelf and three of the others remained. Kagerly they glanced round. They evidently sought Harold. The Young Apprentice made no sign. Up and down the street; into every corner the conspirators peered, and they were just approaching the spot where Harold lay con- cealed, when the voice of the watch was heard. ‘Twelve o'clock! twelve o'clock; and a cloudy night,” were the words uttered, in dole- ful tones. The sound was enough. The would-be assassins knew well the danger of being recognised. ‘We must disperse,” said one of them ; “an- other time we will dispose of this young villain o- _ = = ¢@ @ne ower @e 8 & who has thus’ rudely disturbed our meeting. For to-morrow night, our watch-word is, ‘The Crown and Dagger,’ our place of meeting across the water as before.” Then they hurried away, Quelf flying one way, and the conspirators each taking a dif- ferent direction. The watch having passed, Harold emerged from his place of concealment, and took a survey of the armourer’s house. There was not a light in any portion of it. Every one appeared to have retired to rest. ‘‘T will knock !” thought the Young Appren- tice, “‘and try to get in. If not, I must do as I have done before, and have the blue Heavens for my canopy.” He passed over and knocked at the door. There was no reply. He knocked again. Still no answer. “T will not disturb the armourer,’’ he said, turning away; “he has, no doubt, been to the workshop, found I am not there and is angry. By the morrow he may have recovered himeelf, and I can acquaint him with what I have dis- covered,” Suddenly an idea struck him. He would pass round by the river, and cnter the armourer’s house by the back. He had a key by which to enter the work- shop, and there he could sleep till morning. In order to reach the river he had to pass along a narrow court, and across a kind of ter- race, which once had been ens, but which was now beaten down like the back-court of a house. e Just as he was preparing to proceed thither, he perceived a gaily-dresred cavalier—a little the worse for liquor, and with a black domino on his face, telling of midnight revelry—come hurriedly up the street. Waiting to see which route he took, he saw that he down the narrow court which Harold had marked out for his way to the river. As soon as he had proceeded a little distance, Harold followed him, The moon, which occasionally glinted out through the clouds, showed him the cavalier hurrying unsteadily on before him, when sud- denly he saw a tall figure glide stealthily from behind the edge of a stone wall. He knew the giant form well. It was the form of the armourer. : Spell-bound, Harold watched his movements. T ey were simple, though deadly and horrible. With one bound, like the bound of a beast of prey, he sprang upon the cavalier, who fell with- out a sound or a struggle, as if stricken by a flash of lightning. Harold was benumbed, as it were, by horror and despair; so much so, that he had no time or strength to give warning to the cavalier. In an instant more the body of the murdered man was raised in the arms of the giant and flung into the stream. Then theyre came a second mystery. In the dull light of the almost moonless night Harold saw two armourers, dressed in the same clothes, with the same huge sword raised aloft, the same long cloak streaming behind them ! xX oy X@ - ~~. “Digitizea aN MRS. conn