The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

+. Jf Znl (9) net iS “ ie you not know where their place of meet- iD g oP “Yes. I have been there once.” ‘Well,’ said Rupert Changeling, speaking in a lower voice still, and glancing round fur- tively, as if he thought the very shadows had eara, “three nights since I saw a man’s body thrust through the window, and flung into the river. We put off in a boat, and when the body came tothe sarface we examined it, It was dead, with a dagger in its heart. “Did you see no one’s face at the window when the man was flung into the water ?” “No; it came out as if thrown by invisible handa, The casement was opened, the body was cast out, and it was closed again before we oould see any one,” “Keep to yourself all you see at present,’ said Harold, after a moment; “ we must watch, and endeavour to spoil these ruffians in their hideous work. Go now; in two evenings from this meet me at the River Vault at ten. Good night.” “Good night,” said the boy, and, turning back, he once more entered his boat, and pnshed off on the bosom of the dark river, while Harold returned to his port of observation. The cool air of night ; the ripple of the water against the margin of the river; the murmur of the city, and the silence which encompassed the spot where he waited, acted like a soporific upon e Young Apprentice; and as, in a dreamy way, he leaned against the iron post opposite the door of the old bouse, he seemed to hear the sound of the invisible horse’s feet; the stop- ping of the rnshing charger before the door ; the clang of the steel spurs on the rugged pave- ment; the opening of the rusty portal; the tramp—tramp—tramp of the unseen guest whose presence tradition had linked so closely with the place. Just as he imagined himeelf the hero of this resuscitated legend, he was roused to an under- atanding of his real position by hearing the creaking door opened. Two men oame forth. The one was, as Harold had anticipated, his benefactor, The other was a stranger, whose face Harold could see nothing of, but whose figure and stature were that of Simon Lawless, the escaped victim of the Royalist tribunal. They looked eagerly up and down the street, evidently with a view of ascertaining whether there were any watchers, Of Harold they saw nothing. On the first indication of their coming he had retreated among the dark shadows, “ No one is here,” said the one whom Harold suspected to be Lawless; “you can depart in safety ; unless, indeed, you would wish me to accompany you.” The other shook his head. “No,” he said, “I would rather be alone. I have thoughts within me which I would rather work out alone. Good night. Be discreet and faithful.” “Good night ; and trust in me,” was the re- speotful reply, The two then separated : the one passing up rd THE YOUNG APPRENTICE. NOTIOR.—With our next Ntmber will be GIVEN AWAY ANOTHER SPLENDID PICTURE, printed in Seven Colours. towards the Strand, while Simon proceeded to- wards the river. At the corner of the Strand there was a little bustle, and here Harold lost sight of his bene- factor, and not imagining that he would learn any more, he resolved to return home. It was early now, and when he neared the armourer’s house the door was open. He was just about to enter when he saw— standing in the shadow of the buttress, by the side of which stood the revolving statue—a man whose giant beight and broad form proved him to be none other than the armourer. Without a moment’s heaitation Harold passed into the house, and making his way into the workshop, procured the sword which had upon a former occasion stood him in such good stead, and passed out again into the street. The armourer was still there, but he was look- ing the other way, and the Young Apprentice was able to run across the street and conceal himself in the archway opposite. Why he acted thas it would have been diffi- cult for him to explain even to himself, but there was a feeling within him which impelled him to remain. The time passed heavily. One by one he saw the lights extinguished, and the doors closed and barred, and the throng of people fade away. Then the city grew hushed, and the roll of carriages and the tramp of feet ceased, and the tolling of the usual clocks only showed that life still held sway in London. It was a silent, solemn time. It was not like the London of to-day. No rush of carriages from my Lord Mayor's feasts, No rush of carriages from the opera. No late clerks from bankers, no Redpath's or Robson's with stately broughams round the corner. It was loneliness among the lonely, stillness among the still, and it was a relief when, after long waiting, a tall noble form was seen ad- vancing along the street. It was the Man without a Name! Providence has sent me here to protect him,” said the intrepid apprentice to himself, He drew his sword and prepared himself for action. The intended victim—for Harold felt that his benefactor was the intended victim — came nearer, The heart of the Young Apprentice beat high with expectation. He was not deoeived, No sooner had he approached the moving pedestal, than the giant figure was upon him. In an instant Herold sprang forward. “ Hold !” he oried, “if you Sght now it must be two to ona.” The assassin halted, “ Back |!" oried he. ‘Fight not againat your master.” ‘“‘Master, or no master,” exclaimed Harold, “TI will fight for my friend and benefactor. Stand back and let him pags !” The giant made no reply, but raised his huge sword aloft, death and hate visible in every line of his face. ° CAILNA) EBOOKS GH "la. =" zy CO lin