The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

par eT STELIOS OO A IS SAR NS aa HUN MYSTERIES OF LONDON. ened Juiia, starting from her seat. ‘But do not be afraid, my dear little fellow; for I have plenty of money to buy all wa want for the moment, A good kind gentleman took compassion upon me, and—-and =———"s she did not choose to say, ‘and gave me zome money ;’—for, somehow or snother, her pure soul re- yolted from the idea that she had been the object of eleemosynary benevolence on the part of a stranger :— so, cutting the matter short, she Kissed her little bro- ther tenderly, bade him eat his cakes, and, promising to return in a few minute, hurried away. She or- dered up coals and wood from the nearest shed,— thence she repairell to the grocer's, where she pur- chased a few artirles—and Iastly, she sped to the baker's, ¢o buy brevi, But the moment she entered thie shop, the ma-ter rushed from behind ¢he counter, reized ber rudely, called her by many opprobrious rames, and, raising an alarm, attracted the attention of a policeman who was pasing by. The constable entered the shop, and enquired the cause of the dis- tusbances but poor Julia had fainted;—and she, therefore, heard not the charge that was made against her, When she came to her senses, she gazed wildly around, thinking that she had just awoke from 3 horrid dream;—but. alas! it was all too true! She was seated in a chair in the middle of the shop—a policeman standing near her—aod a gap- ing, curious crowd collected at the door. ‘Nov, yeung woman,’ said the officer, ‘come along with qe! ’—Jnlia east upon him a lool so full of horror and amazement, that the man’s heart was for an instant toucheds;—but, being accustomed to endicss saricties of imposture on the part of offenders, he speedily recovered the cold indifference so characteris- tic of his class, and said sternly, if not brutally, ‘None of this nonsense: you muet tramp off ta the station- house !°—* But what have I done? what offence have J committed? * acked Julia, in a tone of the most pa- thetic entreaty. “Oh! there must be some dreadful mistake in all this!’—*No mistake at all,’ said the officers ‘and you'll know all about it in the morning, when you go before the magistrate !’—* The magis- trate!’ repeated the girl, with the emphasis of de-pair. ‘But my poor little brother, what will become ofhim?? —* That's no business of mine,’ returned the constable: ‘come along !—-and he dragced the half-fainting Julia from the shap. « Away to the nearcst station-louse was the un- happy young woman rather borne than conducted ;— aad £9 stunneud—so stupefied was she by this sudden, unaccountable, and overwhelming misfortune, that her tongue refused to give utterance to the questions shich her suspense prompted her lips to frame. The station was close by; and thus was it that before she had leisure to recover from her bewilderment and tcrror, she found herself thrust into a dark celi—all dripping wet from head to fuot as she was. When full consciousness returned, and she was enabled to look her misfortune in the face, she found that all the arti- cles she had purchased at the grocer’s and all the re- mainder of her money were gone. Yet sho could not possibly conceive on what charge she had been thus zudely- treated s—and her conscience inspired her with the hope that lier complete innocence must become apparent in the morning. But the thought of hor little brother excited the most painful sensations in Iker bosom:—her heart was rent with pangs that seemed to threaten her very existence! The poor little fellow l—she fancied she saw him sitting in the 123 longed absence :—and then a thousand fears haunted her—all distracting in the extreme. Might he not take it into his head to go out to look after her?—he, who sas so ignorant of London !—and then might he not be loct in the mazes of the mighty metropolis, and ona night when it would be almost death to him to wander ahout the flooded streets? Oh! all these fears—these thoughts were terrible ;—for she dearly loved her little brother—loved him, perhaps, the more affectionately, the more tenderly, because their orphan condition rendered him so completely dependant upon her,—and because he was so mutch attached to her, and his ways were so winning~his disposition so cheeriul! a “In the midst of these harrowing meditations a policeman opened the trap in the door of the cell, and called her by name—' Julia Aftrray/’ She answered in a faint and feeble tone; and the officer was about to close the trap, satisfied that his prisoner was not ill nor had attempted suicide,—when the young woman suddenly exclaimed, ‘Stop one moment [’— Well, what is it?® demanded the constable.—In a few hur- ried words Julia explained to him how she had 2 little brother expecting her return, how he would be overwhelmed with grief at her unaccountable absence, and how grateful she should feel if any one could be cent. to infurm the child that his sister would be cer- tain to return in the morning. The constable, who yas 2 kind-hearted man, promised that her request should be complied with; and he was about to depart when, 2 thought striking him, he said, * But are you so sure, young woman, of getting off so easy as you imagine. The charge is a serious onc, mind !’-— The charge!’ she repeated: ‘I do not even yet know what it ist’—*Oh! that’s all gammon,’ cried the constable, closing the trap abruptly; and now, his opinion of the prisoner being that she was a hardened impostor, and had some sinister motive in view in sending 4 message to her lodgings, determined to trouble him- self no more concerning the matter. It was, howe ever, some consolation to tho poor gitl to belicve that her commission would be duly executed ;—for, though she had heard the officer's unfeeling, cutting observation relative to her ignorance of the accusation arainct her, she could not for an instant suppose that he would neglect to fulfil his promise regarding her little brother. But wearily—wearily passed away that night—not once did the poor dress-maker close her eyes—and she counted every hour that was proclaimed from the nejghbonring church-clock—often saying to hereelf that never, never had time travelled with such leaden pace before! She had not tasted food for many hours—and yet she was not hungry; but she experienced a terrible faintness at the chest, and an oppressiveness on the brain, that at intervals made her mind wander. Her cloak was dripping wet when she had been locked up, and her shoca, stockings, and the lower part of her dress wero saturated ;—but she had thrown her cloak aside, and her garments had dried upon her ;—~and now she felt not positively cold —only 2 numbness in her limbs, which gave her how- ever no pain. “At length the dull, misty, wintry morning dawned upon tho metropolis—though all was still dark in her gloomy ccll. Presently an officer en- tered, and gave her a cup of hot coffec and a piece of bread. She asked him if the message had been sent to her brother;—but he was not the samo constable who had made the ronnd of the cells at midnight, and eeld, lonely chamber, crying bitterly at his sister's pro- | therefore knew nothing about the matter. Mors- co G DOO SS (SO