The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

—E™ 1. : EO Orn (Gru THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON. At twelve he naturally expected the arrival of a meal. But no one came. The hours moved slowly on. Hunger was added to the misery of the solitude, which gave birth only to wretched thoughts. How much more wretched would he have been had he known the thoughts which had filled the armourer’s mind that morning. Se the day passed, In vain he shouted. In vain he battered at the door of his cell, and demanded food. No one answered him. At length night came again. But there was no hopo of sleep. His long ride on the preceding night to the old house by the cross road had given him an appetite, and since that time he had not tasted food or drank a drop of water. His mouth was parched, ‘‘ Miserable traitor !” he murmured more than once, “if cver I escape from this dungeon you shall rue i\” Young ee he was, Lord Raymond was sowing in his heart the seeds of a deadly revenge. At ength a deadly faintness supervened, and lying on his straw in weariness and pain, he closed his eyes, and fell into a doze, which more resembled a swoon than sleep. He was awakened by a voice— ‘‘ Rise, and eat.” These were the welcome words. He rose wearily, and sought for the speaker. At first in the semi-darkness he could discover nothing, but at length as his eyes became used to the strange light, he saw the old man of the night before kneeling by his side. “Here, lad,” he said, in a voice gentle as a woman's, “eat this. They are starving yon, are they not?” ‘ They are,” cried Harold, eagerly seizin g the loaf which was presented him, and drinking, before he ate, nearly a pint of water. “ And why are you here ?” Harold was eating so quickly that he could not answer. ‘Never mind,” said the old man, smiling, “you are hungry ; eat first and tell your story afterwards.” After partaking of a hearty meal of dread and eater, Harold told his story. The old man listened earnestly. “ Ah! my boy,” he said, “you must contrive some method of escape, or you will be immured here for years.”’ * But this is not a public prison; they have no right to detain me.” The old man smiled. “Right,” he said, “is not thought of here. Might is right in these times, Cannot you deceive this man ?”’ *Tdo not see how.” * Tell him that Lady Blanche Marcheville is in some place where she is not.” ' ‘< He will send there and prove my words to be alse.”’ “Cannot you offer to escort him ?" “Tcould; bat I fearit will prove a failure. It would only be exchanging one fate for another, cell ?” “See yonder corner. In that corner a large stone moves. In my cell not a ray of light enters, and I forced that stone to move in order that I might enter here and see the blessed sun- beams struggle through those bars. But believe me, if you wish to escape, you must be quick about it. Lord Raymond will soon return to the army, and when he is once away there will never be a chance of escape. Hush! what is that? some one is coming. Put the remainder of this bread beneath your straw. Wemust be careful.” They both listened. It was a false alarm. ‘A few troopers passed lazily along the passage and their footsteps died away prescntly in the distance, “ How came you here?” asked Harold of the old man. “It is so long, my son, that I scarcely remem- ber how I came. I have been here twenty yeara if I have been a day. Ama near relation of one whom Lord Raymond hates. In fact— hush ! again! by heavens they are at the door. I must fly.” So saying, he fled away into the corner ; the stone swung to and Harold was once more alone. Only for a moment. In another instant Lord Raymond entered But tell me how do you enter this again. Behind him were four troopers with torches. - § Harold Fordyce,” said Raymond, in a stern voice, “ follow me,” The Young Apprentice rose but remained still standing. ‘‘Where am I going? " he asked. “You willsee ere long. Follow me, or my men will drag you with them.” ‘ There is no need of that,” said Harold, “you have me for the present in your power. follow.” Lord Raymond pointed to a vacant space be- tween the four troopers. Harold advanced, took his place, and they moved off, proceeding still downwards in the direction of the river. The chill and the damp air increased as they went on, Down, down they went till the floor was sloppy and oozy, and the splash of the river waves could be heard distinctly without. ‘‘ This is murder,’ said Harold. “No, but something near it,’ whispered a trooper ; ‘‘take my advice and yield.” ‘T will not,” returned Harold; “death by assassination is better than life gained through treachery.” ‘“‘ Halt!” cried the voice of Lord Raymond. They were now opposite to a huge iron door. He advanced and opened it with a key. ‘‘ Enter,” he said. The cavalcade passed in and the door closed behind them. The room into which they entered had a hot stifling smell, and seemed as if a huge furnace had been just extinguished. Lord Raymond advanced to the centre of the room and lit a lamp. Harold saw at once now what the room was. It was a torture chamber. On one side was a fire-place in which a pair of pincers lay among the ashes, GOVE OOO CO