The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 177: what you’re looking at

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ee eee estching at the hope of extricating himself from the deadly perils which appeared to hem him in around. “And ye acknowledge yourself to be a Har and a ecounthrel?” vociferated the terrible Gorman O'Blun- darbuss. “Why, my dear sir—as for that-——” “Don't ‘dear sir-r’ me!" interrupted the Jrishman. Gerecly. “Acknowledge yourself to he a Har and a scounthrel—and on my part I shall be ready to acknow- ledge in returer-n that ye've made sich an apology asa gintleman ought under the circumstances.” “Oh! yes—mutual concessions,” observed Frank, with a wink at Mr, Scales, who could seareely keep, his countenance through a violent inclination to laugh. “A liar and a scounthrel!” repeated the captain, as he advanced in na threatening manner towards thie wretched victim of this egregious bullyism. “Well, my dear sit—if it will satisfy you—and, as your friend observes, on the principle of mutual con- cessions—]—~J——” “ Out with if, man!’ roared the captains “don’t heep us waiting all day—for the hot wather is getting could——” “ You'd betler not proveixe nim any more,” whis- pered Frank: “or I shall be compelled to run and fetch the pistols—uniess you prefer having your brains dashed out with the poker.” © Oh! murder!” ejaculated the miserable Tickner, furning deadly pale at the awful alternative suggested: “give me time to breathe, Captain O°Blunderbuss——” “Not a moment!” cried the ferocious gentleman thus appealed to; “I must have complate satisfaction before ve brathe another pul” “Well, then—I endmit that I—I am—what von said,” returned the eclonel. * Nepate the words! A Har anda scounthret!” “A har and—and—a scoundrel,” echoed the hum- bled and trembling wretch, wishing Guat the floor wonld open and swallow him up—or that any cther equally improbable casualty might occur, so lung as it should remove him from the presence of the ferocions Irishman. “Ye hear his wor-rds, my frinds?” cried the cap- tain: “he declar-ra himself to be a liar and a scoun- thre), And now, as a man of honour-r, I confiss myself complately satistied. The apology is most handsome —and such as reflicts the highest credit on him asa gintleman. Give me your hand, sir r!” The colonel diffidently extended the member thus demanded; and the gallant Irishman shook it with such hearty good will, that its owner winced and writhed avith the pain of the irun pressure. “And now we'll spake no more on milithary mnatthers,” said Gorman O’Blunderbuss; “ but dhrink potheen at our aise, and converse on all kinds of things.” By this little arrangement the captain got rid of the necessity of giving any explanation relative to his own military carreer; and Colonel Tickner, speedily forgetting the deep humiliation to which the bullying character of the Irishman and his own craven spirit had subjected him, paid his respects with so much earnestness to the whiskey, that Prank was soon com- pelled to sally forth and procure another bottle—Mrs. Pitkin having returned to her own domicile under the plea of being “ very ill,” which in plain English meant * very druni:.” The conviviality was maintained until half-past ten, When Captain O'Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis rose t» take their lenye of Mr. Scales and the colonel, | oe emer eee went re et a a en et wre ne ene re ere ee ere ee ee ee re, ee 170 THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, we But before they departed, the Irishman renewed his | expressions of gratitude and his protestations of friend- ship to the worthy Brother who had manifested so much kindness towards him ;—and, highly delichted with their evening's entertainment, the two ‘ inse- parables” walked off arm-in-arm together. Now how gloomy—how truly monastic appeared the Charter Ifouse, as they traversed the spacious court, bounded by the low, uniform ranges of build- ings. Most of the windows were dark; but here and there a flickering Ught was gleaming—feeble and faint as the spirit of the old man for whose long Ionely hours even that poor candle was a species of com- panion. In spite of the natural liveliness of the two friends' dispositions—in spite of the whiskey they had im- bibed—they shuddered as the aspect of the place, in the more than semi-obscurity of the starlight, seemed cold and cheerless to the view,—aye, and struck so to their very hearts. Their footsteps raised echoes which sounded hollow and gloomy, as if coming from the midst of tombs: and if they paused fora moment, the silence was so deep—so profound, it scemed impossible that the place was in the very midst of the mightiest metropoiis in the world. The feelings of the two fnends were snch. that they could not have uttered a rivald word nor given vent fo n jest or a laugh, as they traversed an enclosure whero the stillness was so awful and the cloistral aspect of the scene so coldly, sternly monastic, Iiad their way lay through a vast cathedral, at the silent midnight hour, they could not have experienced | a sense of more painful oppression; nor would a deeper gloom have fallen upon their spirits. It was a great relicf when the porter closed the wicket of the massive gates behind them;—and a3 | they hastily skirted Charterhouse Square—kceping a good lock-out for fear of unpleasant prowlers in that | region—the captain whispered to his companion, | “Well, Frank —and, be Jasus! I’d sooner be knocked | about the wer-r-ld as you and I are at times, me boy, | than take up my quar-r-ters altogether in that place, | It’s all very pritty, no doubt, while one has his frintis with him; but whin they're gone, Frank, it strikes me that the loneliness becomes tin thousand times more | lonely.” | ‘)’m just of the same opinion, captain,” returned Mr. Curtis, ‘And now where shall we put up for | the night?” * Be the power-r3! and we've cash in our pockets— | aad it’s afther pathronising some tavern we'll be ' until the morning, whin we'll take fresh lodgings,” | exclaimed the gallant gentleman, his naturally good spirits reviving, as he found himself safe in Aldersgate | Strect, and no suspicious-looking characters dodging him in tho rear, CHAPTER CLI. TUE CALM.—THE TEMPEST. i] i Rrrues we now to Charies VWatfield and Perdita. The gorgeous lustre of a Parisian summer morning | streamed through the muslin curtains of a handsome chamber in the hotel at which they had tiken up their abode; and the giory of that sun-light shone upon the nuptial couch where the newly-wedded pair still slent. we ee mee oe eee oe ree mee ee eee EConnicloooks (CO)