The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

| ui Rel eriectis es 9 50 THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, his hands nerved the more by the presence of Alicia Leslie, who was for the time under his protection, Clash, clash, clash! went the swords, one against the other, and at length even to Alicia's eyes it was evident that Gibert was obtaining the advantage. At length the Parliamentary trooper tripped against a loose stone in the jagged pavement, This was the time. The gleaming sword of Alicia’s companion flashed aloft, and the blade was buried in his adversary’s breast. It was not long before Alicia Leslie, disguised in dark clothes and wearing a thick veil, was walking by the side of the grim trooper down to the river side. . . Here they entered a boat, which the strong arm of Gilbert soon took across the Thames. Once or twice during th8ir lonely journey, the thought crossed Alicia’s mind, “Is this common sense in me? Isit not foolhardincss to trust myself to this man, when, but last night, my sister was carried forcibly away ?” But the force of love overcame her fears. So, although there was a slight feeling of doubt in her mind, she allowed herself to be helped out of the boat and along a dark wharf to a point where a ricketty, wood-built inn swayed ite sign-board over the river's edge. “Within that inn, my Lord Leicester——”’ ‘‘ Hush |” cried Alicia, turning deadly pale. “ Have you forgotten?” “Well, then, within that inn, Leicester, the apprentice, lies desperately wounded. But you must remember two things: in the first place, you must not raise your veil; in the second place, you must not addreses me as Gilbert.” As he apoke he placed on a large beard and moustache, and led her in. The trooper then led her by the hand into the inn; and through the bar they passed into a large room at the back, to reach which they had to cross a yard. At the door of this room stood two soldiers dressed in the Royalist dress, and they crossed their arms at the door to bar their entrance, ‘* Let me pass,” said Gilbert. “Do you not know me—Lymington? This is a friend of mine come to see Leicester, the apprentice. The watchword—‘ The Crown and Liberty.’ ” After traversing a short, dark corridor, they entered a dark room, lit by a dingy oil lamp. Round it were seated a number of men smok- ing and drinking, while on a couchof straw lay a man evidently in great pain. Eagerly Alicia Leslie crossed the room, despite the inquiring looks of the troopers. The sufferer turned a pale wistful face to- wards her, and smiled faintly as she sat down beside him. A whispered conversation then ensued which none of the troopers could overhear, and by degrees they grew tired of listening, and re- lapsed into a dreamy somnolescence. All but one, who was neareat to Alicia and Leicester. This man, though disguised, was Simon Lawless, Seeing that all were seemingly so unobservant Alicia spoke somewhat louder, and, having heard the manner in which Leicester escaped and was attacked by his silent enemies, she told him of Ettie's abduction and Harold's dis- appearance. ‘For the latter you are not sorry,” he seid. “In one way—no,” returned Alicia, “if I could be assured that no harm had come to him; but I must not forget that it was to his courage and address you owe your liberty.” ‘Ab, true,” said Leicester; “but really gratitude in these days is misplaced. One can- not afford to be grateful if one would be safe.” The grim trooper turned his face towards the lamp to avoid their observance of the smile which the words of the treacherous Leicester had provoked. He waited to hear no more. Rising from his seat, he walked into the yard. Presently the veiled lady came forth. He placed his hand on her arm, “ Mistress Leslie—a word with you,” he said, She started, “You mistake, sir,” she said ; “let me pass, I am not she.” He atill held her with a grasp of iron. ‘‘ Yea—yes,” he said, in a low, firm, subdued voice, “you are she. I know you well. On this occasion I wish you no harm, I wish to speak of Harold Fordyce.” ‘¢ What of bim ?” “Ts he in danger?” “T know not, He has disappeared.” “You have Had no hand in his disap- pearance ?”’ “ No—no. He did me good service. I would not betray him.” Simon Lawless s:ooped down close to her and said in a low voice, “Leicester did not say as much just now. You shall see I know who wy fine London Ap- prentice is. He is——” His last words were whispered in her ear, But she heard them readily, and started back in alarm, ‘‘Who are you,” she said, whispers such terrible secrets ?”’ “Never mind who I am,” returned Simon Lawless; “but tell me, did Harold Fordyce dis? appear at the same time as Ettie Leslie?” ‘“* He did.” “ Then he shall be saved if life is in him yet,” returned the spy. “Good night; and if you take my advice, come to this place no more.” He had evidently an idea in his head as to Harold's whereabouts, for without hesitation he entered a boat, and pushed off on the bosom of the dark stream in the direction of London Bridge.t It was not long before his long light boa reached the stairs, where, having moored it, he advanced up the steps to a little oddly-shaped affair that looked like a huge box perched on the wall. On approaching it Simon Lawless tapped gently with the hilt of his sword on the wood- work, and in the instant a light shot out from a round hole, Who's there ?” asked a shrill voice, “ Hush—it is I—Simon. Open.” In a moment a small door was opened, and a grotesque figure appeared. ‘‘Come in—come in,” it said; ‘ you are late.” “Yes, I am late,” said the other, “but I am compelled to come to you. Olose the door to and [ will tell you all.” “that thus EDOO >) <S) CO