The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 201: what you’re looking at

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

198 THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. ing away, lest he should attract too much attention, from those who were near the spot, and thus defeat his own object. He did move away, and toward a part of the town he knew full well—there was an empty house, and in this he thought he could for a time find shelter. To this he made an immediate retreat, not in so rapid a manner as he had before made—that might at- tract more attention than was at all desirable. . Rapid flight through London was only admissible in very urgent cases, but there was danger in being stopped, both by passers- by and also by some accidental encounter in so crowded a place. The mendicant, therefore, assumed a rapid and cau- tious walk, until he came toalong and narrow lane. Here he paused for a moment or two, and looked about him. He did not want to be noticed going into this neighborhood, for it was just possible that he should be waited for by any of the officers, and that would insure his detection. Seeing, however, no one near, he went down the lane, and stopped before a house he had, on one or two occasions, stopped at before,and where he had concealed himself for some hours without being detected, ‘* Ah!” he muttered, as he looked up at a large, empty house, ‘this is the place. I suppose it’s condemned.” He gazed around him on all sides, but saw no one looking; but he heard a hue and a cry of some sort at the end of the street, as if it were approaching, and without a moment’s hesitation the mendicant darted into the house. The door swung back with some violence, and went with a tremendous bang against the wall, and then back again; but there was no lock or hasp to catch it, and it swung backward and forward several times be- fore it rested in quiet. In an instant the mendicant, witha light step, was up-stairs, and had reached the first floor landing before he paused, and then he stopped to listen to the many echoes that resounded throughout the empty house. But then, when they had nearly subsided, other sounds reached his ears he had not expected. ‘‘Hilloa! who's that?” shouted a deep, hoarse voice, from be- low the ground-floor. The mendicant paused and listened. “Oh! I’m not alone,” he muttered. ‘* Who can this be? but no matter, I'll have no companion.” ‘ Hilloa, who’s above®” shouted the same voice. No answer. “Ts that you, Jack?” No answer still, and the voice below paused a moment or two, and the other appeared to be listening. ‘‘What’s the matter ?” inquired another voice below, but in a Jower tone. ‘*T don't know, only somebody banged the door fit to knock a hole through the wall into the next house.” ‘““The devil!” ‘*Didn’t you hear it, then ?” inquired the first. ‘*T was in the cellars,” said the other. ‘I heard something, but couldn't tell what it was. It was something that shook the place a bit, but where it came from I could not tell.” ‘*T could, though.” ‘‘Have you been up to see ?” inquired the second voice. comicbooks. com