The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

K THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON. 7 tray on which was a fine ham and some new bread and a jug of foaming ale. “ Kat and drink at your will,” said the man ; “but I'll give you one piece of advice—be quick if you desire to go home before to-morrow night. If yon cannot finish your work by dawn you will have to remain all to-morrow until dark,” Harold smiled. “If we are to be treated in this manner we shall not be loth to remain,”’ he said. They seated themselves at a little table near the door, and opposite the portrait of James I. The man stood by as they ate, and they could not, therefore, indulge in any private conver- sation. They could, however, keep watch, and this they did. ‘**See,” whispered Harold; “the eyes moved in.” “Watch them But don’t move.” They kept their eyes apparently upon their plates, but, every now and then, they raised them to the picture. The eyes were not moving now. By some mysterious agency the picture was perfect, yet the eyes were changed. Harold now hurried his meal. In a few minutes they were once more at work. When the room was cleared, Harold hurried to the door opposite. It was fast locked, but the key-hole was larpe, and besides, the eyes in the picture could not see any one near it, | Harold was, after all, but a boy. The first glance he took startled him out of his propriety. _ © Here, here, Dick !”” he cried. The blacksmith’s apprentice approached. “Took through,” cried Harold; “there is what | seek.” Langham glanced through. There, stretched on a bed—now fast asleep— lay a young girl. Her two wrists were fastened tightly together with a cord; her legs also were bound just above the knees, the fastening burying itself cruelly in the soft flesh, as could be seen plainly beneath the disturbed night-dreas. The bound hands were pressed up prayerfully upon the soft bosom ; the red lips were parted ; the bright hair streaming over the delicious shoulders, ‘Oh ! how beautiful she is,” cried Dick Lang- ham, drawing a deep breath. “Do you know who she is?” asked Harold. “No; but she must be an angel from heaven,” exclaimed the young blacksmith, enthusiasti- cally, ‘‘ Well, then,’”’ said Harold, ‘that is Blanche Marcheville.” The young blacksmith looked again. “ Let's wait,” he said, “ until to-morrow night, and then, perhaps, we shall be able to make further discoveries.” They proceeded now to the windows, and once more commenced their work. What they had now todo would have occupied but an hour reasonably ; but it was full three hours before they had completed their task. The dawn was now breaking. In through the heavily curtained window poured the golden light. ° Then the man entered. “ Have you finished yet?” he asked, ‘‘ Yes,” He advanced at once, placed the bandages once more over their eyes, and took their hands. ‘‘You have to remain here all day now,’ he said ; “follow me.” He led them down the stairs until they felt the cold air of a basement story rushing over em, “Where are you conducting us?” asked Harold. “TI trust there isnotreachery.” — “No treachery on the part of any one here,” returned their conductor ; “you will be treated well; you will live in the best of style, and as soon as night comes you will be taken back to your homes. Here is your chamber for the day.” When the bandages were removed from their eyes, they found themselves in a large chamber with stone walls and grated windows, but with a large fire flickering in its large grate, making the bare place look comfortable and genial. Here they settled themselves for the day. There was every convenience—every kindness shown them, and there was no chance of escape. So they made the best of it, and talked with the two men who watched them, and waited for night, It came at length. Slowly enough, as may be imagined, to ‘them who were wa 80 eagerly. About nine o’clock one of the men said, *“* Now, you are at liberty togo. When I have blindfolded you again, I will conduct you to the carriage.” In a few minutes they had ascended the stone steps, and had ouce more entered the carriage, and drove off towards London. During the journey Harold did not speak a word, He closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep, but never a wink of sleep he, He was counting the turnings. On arriving at the Strand, the boys were re- leased, and the carriage drove away, , Harold waited until the men were out of car- shot, Then he said, gaily, ‘¢ Dick, have you any desire to go back to tho house we have just left ?” The blacksmith’s apprentice gazed at him in surprise. ‘*What do you mean ?” he said. “JT will tell you. I could, starting from this point, and being blindfolded again, take you atraight to the house. Within a fortnight Lady Blanche Villiers shall be with her husband,” CHAPTER XVIII. TO THE RESCUE, APPRENTICES ! ON the evening following this adventure Harold sallied forth to endeavour to find his way to the old house before sending word to Lord Clement Villiers. He had br night upon which to carry out his adven ire, for it was so dark that he might jast as welPhave been blindfolded. | SA EDOOo 3; 3p)) @ G i a eS