The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

r= 4 of —— ** By Heaven! this is unfortunate |" cried Lord Raymond. “This fellow may carry tidings to our enemies that may ruin us,” ‘“ He was desperately wounded, and the tide is swift and strong,” said Leicester ; “I doubt if he escapes,” “Let us hope not,” cried Raymond; “the words he could repeat would lead us all to the acafiold.” “Speak for yourself,” said Leicester, sarcas- tically. “ What you have said and what we have said are two different things, But hark! there is the sound of a horse's hoofs in the street. Maybe our guest arrives, Pat out the lighta,”’ The lanterns were at once closed, and ap- proaching the front window, Leicester and Ray- mond looked out, hiding themselves as well as they could behind the ragged curtains, The horseman approached nearer. The night was very dark, however, and they could see nothing. More than one among their number felt a qualm in theiy heart. Was this the Phantom Horseman ? Bet in another moment they were agreeably undeceived. - A grey horse neared the gates, and the rider descended. It was the Man without a Name! “ Back all of you!" cried Lord Raymond. “ Hide behind the tapestry, and do not show yourselves till you are called.” Before the Unknown had reached the front door, they had all concealed themselves behind the hangings, Lord Raymond did not stir. Both he and the Unknown knew well the means of entrance, ' In a few moments the cnemies stood face to ace. ‘‘You are come, then?” said Raymond, sar- castically. “IT have—you see me plainly enough, I warrant,” returned the other, in a haughty tone. As he spoke, he drew aside, and stood near the window, so that when Lord Raymond turned on the light of his lantern Harold Fordyce, looking down from his post of observation, could see his pale noble face as he had beheld it on the last occasion. “ Are you not afraid to meet me here after all that has happened?” asked Raymond. ‘‘ Afraid | I know not the meaning of the word,” said the Unknown. ‘“Oome, be quick ; without wasting further time, tell me for what have you asked me to meet you here to-night ?” “YT will tell you. You remember our last meeting ?” “JT do. Oonsidering that you endeavoured to murder me, I cannot fail to recollect it." “ Well, that being so, I have but to say that once again I have met you to demand from you possession of those papers which belong right- ly to me.” The Unknown smiled. “ This is a foolish thing—a foolish expenditure of time and breath. You know well that I shall refuse what you ask.” ‘‘Not so foolish or idle as you think is this interview,” said Raymond, significantly ; “but und — me, will you let me have Thurston's (Gere 3 THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, Which f” The one that gives me the property of Long- oaks in the event of his leaving no heirs,’ “ But supposing I know that he did leave heirs— supposing I know that you endeavoured to mur- der the heir—supposing that I know where the real heir was at the time you fancied that the bravo's knife had been buried deep in his heart— supposing I know all this and suspect where the real heir now is?” anor Raymond's lips quivered, but he did not n r *¢ Pooh,” he said, “ this is folly.” ‘¢ Folly ! you will sea what folly it is when I tell you that Iam only waiting for oxe clue to prove him the heir, and bring him forward in the light of day as such.” “ And who, pray, is this young worthy ?” cried Raymond, aneeringly. “That is my secret.” “ Kasily fathomed, though. It is no doubt this Young Apprentice, this piece of acum which you took from the river, this animated atom of river filth which you are trying to convert into a gentleman, But it matters not. Supposing that I say that unless you tell me, death this very night shall be your portion ?” ‘Tt matters not,” said the Unknown, boldly ; “death once before steed me face to face in this house, and I I trust in heaven, which forsakes only thosg who forsake it first. Threaten me not, for I do not fear you.” ‘“ We shall see,” said Lord Raymond fiercely. ‘Friends, appear !* The eight men at onoe threw aside the tapes- try and stood in a cluster at the other side of the room. The Unknown mored not, but stoed in the same spot with his arms folded. He might traly have been forgiven had his heart experienced one thrill of alarm. Here he was, but slightly armed, in the ce of his deadliest foe, and this foo supported by a band of assassins evidently bent on doing their leader's worst Since concealing themselves behind the worn and ragged tapestry, they had each donned a mask of crape, which completely hid their features, and prevented the Unknown from re- cognising one from the other. Their naked swords were in their hands, for attack, and, apart from their fine clothes, they certainly looked nothing better than a band °' Lord Raymond pointed in triumph ymon n triumph at them. “* See,” he said, Pt was repared for you.” “T see,” returned the Unknown; “nine men arrayed against ene man. It is a compliment I appreciate.” ‘‘ You shall have better cause still to appreciate it,” said Lord Raymond. “I have no time to waste in talking to no purpose, and so I will at once to the point, Understand me once for all, I shall not ask you twice. If you refuse to give to me the means of discovering the hiding- place of Lord Thurston’s will, my friends will fall upon and destroy you. In that case the house, as you know, is mine by law, and every stone shall be removed the one from the other, every inch of it shall be searched, and the will sbal! be mine in spite of you. Answer me now—yes or no. ay Re =' GOVE OOO SS) CO lin