The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 144: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 181 lordship. But still { was resolved to kuow more of my man; and I accordingly got out of him which public-house he frequented. For I thought to myself, ‘ You'll be going there, perhaps, presently: and I may as well watch your proceedings a litle varther while I am about #.’—So I went to the head- constable of Richmond, who is a friend of mine; and there I speedily transmogrified myself again. I washed off the soot and black—dressed myself in @ peasant’s garb—painted my face to have the florid look of country-people—and put on a wig of light hair that resembled a piece of a sew door- mat. Thus disguised, I went back to the King’s Arms (where [ had previously taken a glass of ale on passing along just to keep up sppearances in case John should inquire whether a knife-grinder had been there). Taking my seat in the tap-room and calling for some refreshments, I waited pa- tiently to see what would turn up. Presently in came a fellow who holds a sort of official situation in the City—not a very creditable or enviable one either—in plain terms, the Hangman, Daniel Coffin: and I thought to myself that the plat was thickening—for I had lopg suspected Coffia of being a thorough-paced villain and secretly con- nected with thieves and burglars, although I had never been able to bring anything regularly home to him. Well, my lord, in a short time who should walk in but John the footman? He looked at me suspiciously fora moment; but I could have defied him to recognise ine, inasmuch as the Hangman, who was waiting for him, and who knows me as well as I know him, had failed to discover me through my disguise. . They talked in a low tone: but my ears are as keen as my eyes are sharp— and I heard enough to convince me that John wae in league with the desperadoes to a certain extent, and that Daniel the Hangman was one of them.” “Now that you mention the name of Danie,” ejaculated the Marquis of Leveson, “I recollect that one of the scoundrels was so addressed by the chief of the gang. In fact this Danie! was sent to get a sheet of paper to wrap up the pocket-book in the manner I described to you on Tuesday morning. Bat to think that I have been in com- pany with the Pablic Executioner {"” exolaimed the Marquis, his aristocratic pride horribly offended and his exquisite sense of refinement deeply dis- gusted. “Well, my lord, these things will happen in life,” observed Larry Sampson, quietly. “Bat to con- tinue my narrative, I must state that finding the Hangman and the footman getting confidential and communicative with each other, I pretended to be asleep; and then they talked more unreservedly, planning a new orime and mentioning the name of a certain old Jeremy, a notorious receiver of stolen goods and melter of plate. To be brief, I obtained @ pretty insight into the characters of those two worthies ; and when they were gone, I also took my departure. I now saw that I was on the right scent in the investigation of your lordship’s affair : and I deliberated what I should do next—because the affair was a delicate one, inasmach as your lordship required it to be sifted without any noise and in @ very quiet manner. All day W which was to inform me that any particular person was to be followed. Well, at midnight precisely I went away. Hestening home, I speedily resumed my disguise as a knife-grinder; and off I sped to Jacob’s Island—a horrible place in Bermondsey— where I knew that there was a den of resort for all kinds of infamous characters. I was likewise aware that it was the night for old Jeremy to visit the house to transact his business; and 1 thought it not improbable that the Hangman would be there to speak to him concerning that other crime | which he and the livery-servant had planned at the King’s Arms, Richmond. At all events I fan- cied I might learn something of use to me in the matters I had in hand; and relying upon the ex- cellence of my disguise, I went boldly into the lion’s den. It was a little past one on Wednesday night —or rather on Thursday morning, when I got there; and knowing how to patter flash—which means, my lord, to talk the slang language—I was enabled to pags myself off as a regular desperate character. My pretext for the visit was a desire to see old Jeremy; and to him I told some tale of an intended robbery and a large booty in anti- cipation, which guite won the ancient villain’s heart. Presently the Hangman came sure enough; and to him I repeated the same story, enlisting him as an accomplice in the pretended crime that was as yet in embryo. From the rascals assem- bled at the den I subsequently succeeded in glean- ing a little useful intelligence relative to the pro- ceedings of some notorious dealers in spurious coin: but not a word was spoken concerning the outrage of Monday night. Of course I could not broach the subject; and I was thinking of taking my departure whea a young lady was inveigled into the hogse. She bad money and jewels about her—and the rascals proposed to murder her. The assassination being determined upon, I pro- posed to do the deed myself ——” “What on earth was that for, Mr. Sampson?” inquired the Marquis, in amazement. “ Because it was the only way to prevent some one else from doing the job in reality,” responded Larry, in his wonted imperturbable manner. “I was accordingly deputed to murder the young lady— and I went into the room where she was sleeping. Of course I immediately helped her to escape: but 1 suppose the noise of opening the shutter or helping her out of the window, reached the ears of the villains—and, suspecting something, they forced open the chamber-door, rushing in after us. To be brief, the young lady got safe off, while I fell down and was stunned by the blow. What now followed I can only conjecture: but I suppuse that the ruffians determined upon murdering me— for when I came to my senses, I was plunged into the ditch behind the house. The tide was flowing in from the Thames at the moment—and to thi: circumstance do I owe my salvation. The current swept me along with tremendous violence: but I eaught the supporters of a bridge—lifted myself out of the water—and was thus saved.” “ Good heavens, Mr. Sampson, what a peril you escaped!” cried the Marquis of Leveson, shudder- ednesdsy | ing at the bare thought of the norrine situation ag your lordship is aware, I was standing opposite | which the Bow Street officer nevertheless treated your house disguised aa a beggar: but nothing | with remarkable coolness. came of that strategam—my services were useless, ‘* Well, my lord, it might have been fatal,” he as your lordship’s valet did not give the signal ‘said: “ but as it was not, there is no use in fright- & - | ClooOokKkS. CORT