The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 363: what you’re looking at

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350 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. fate. Indeed all four villains made sure that the dark crib was surrounded by Sampson's runners; and for this reason they did not effer to lay a fia- ger upon the formidable fanctionary himself. . Although such a pack of hang-dog scoundrels as you,” resumed Larry, “ deserve no mercy at my hands, yet I do not mind putting you at your ease in one respect: aod that is,” he continued, address- ing himself particularly to Bencull and ‘the But- toner, “1 do no¢ mean to take you two up, nor yet your friend the Hangman, for that business at Sir Douglas Huntingdon’s. Not that I am over desi- rous to show you any leniency, but because I can- not inake use of the evidence I have obtained to bring the deed home to you. So now,” he added, let me give you aword of warning—which ia, that if you don’t break up your gang, get out of London, and disperse over the country as quick as possible, I will hunt you all to the gibbet. Now I have given you fair warning: and 1 hope you will be wise anough to take it.” .“ Aud what’s to prevent us from knocking you on the head and shoving you out into the ditch ?” exclaimed the Buttoner, suddenly struck with the idea that if Larry Sampson had not come thither for the purpose of effecting any arrests, it was very probable he was unattended by his myrmidons. “ You will not attempt any such thiog,” answered Sampson coolly; “because in the first place i should shoot you through the head;”—and as he spoke he drew forth his hands from his capacious pockets, each hand being armed with a double- barrelled pistol, “Moreover,” he continued, “ if you just tap at that window, three or four of my men will rush io from the gallery: and at the first report of one of these pistols, half-a-dozen more of my runoers will break into the house from the street. So now you are forewarned of the conse- . quences of any attempt to molest me.” The Buttoner sank down upon his chair again in gloomy sullenness ; and Bencull, lighting a pipe, puffed away with the air of a man who feels him- self in unpleasant circumstances, but endeavours to appear as unconcerned as possible. As for the Durrynacker and the Mushroom Faker, they tossed off frequent bumpers of spirits, doubtless to arm themselves with courage for any emergency that might ensue. But Mr. Sampson in reality seemed to have no inclination to push matters to the extreme on the present occasion; and re- placing his pistols in his pocket he said, * Now, Mr. Beadcull, { will thank you to go first and open your street-door for me.” The landlord of the dark crib was too well pleased at this command not to obey it with alacrity ; and the Bow Street Officer issued forth from the den of infamy. Immediately upon emerging into Mill Street, he blew a whistle with a peculiar note of shrillness; and Bencull, keeping the door ajar in order to watch till the “enemy” had d.parted, perceived that this was the signal for the runners to leave the vicinage of the dark crib. Larry Sampson passed up the street; and one after the other Bencull counted no less than eight runners whom he recognised as they fol- lowed at short intervals, Then, when the Goast hee. more clear, he shut the door and returned to the rom where his three cuwpauions had re- maine “ Betrayed —basely betrayed!” he yroviled forth as he replaced the light on the table and flung himself upon the bench, * Yes, and there's no d vibt as to who's betrayed us,” saidthe Buttoner. ‘* Nell Gibson alone could have peached about that business at Sir Douglas Huntingdon’s, [ dare say instead of having gone back to Mother Young’s, "as cut and bolted. But at all events I'll go and see.” ** No, stay here, old feller,” exclaimed Bencull : “let’s do nothing hastily—for there’s no telling how Larry may have his eye upon us. At all events let’s see whether the Hangman comes back —and if so what he says.” This advice was adopted; and the four ruffiians applied themselves with renewed energy to the spirits and tobacco, in order to cheer their minds after the scene that had just taken piace, the par- ticulars of which afforded them ample food for discussion till about half-past twelve o’clock, when the Hangman returned. Bursting with the fury of his pent-up feelings, the dinbolical nature of which was reflected upon his countenance, Danie! Coffin no soouer enterea the little room than he demanded what had taken place. In a few harried words the required ex- planations were given; and he in his turn was then called upon to describe how he had fared in Loug Acre. “By Satan! I soaroely koow that I shall have patien&e enough to tell you,” he exolaimed, his naturally hang-dog countenance sudienly assum- ing a look so truly diabolical that even his com- panions felt their blood ran cold in their veine fur amoment. “Bat however, let me try and compose myself to a task that is ten thousand times more unpleasant than tucking up a feller at the Old Bailey. Well, on reaching Long Acre alittle after eleven, I knocked at Sampson's door, and Dame Margery—that’'s his old housekeeper, you know— almost immediately opened it. ‘ Pray, ma'am, says J, ‘te Mr. Sampson at home? just for ali the world as if I hadu’t the least idea that he was out.—‘ No, sir, he is not,’ says she ia such a civil manner that I really thought the old girl dido’s recollect who I was: but she speedily undeceived me on this point saying, ‘J think you are Mr. Coffin, if I mistake noiP—* Well, ma'am,’ says I, ‘ Dan'el Coffin is my name for want of a better. Bub ifs very that Mr. Sampson is out; for I want to speak to him very particular.'—‘ [think he said he was guing down to Jacob’s Island,’ observes the old house- keeper; and you may be assured that I was denced giad to hear this, because of course I felt certain * that he had fallen into the trap.—' Do you think he will be long, ma'am?’ says 1.—‘Z dare say a couple of hours, she answered: ‘but can’t you call back again? or else perhaps you will walk in aad wait till he comes home ?’—‘ Well, ma'am,’ says J, not ap- ‘ pearing to catch too greedily at the offer, altuuugh it was jast what I wanted, ‘perhaps thafs the best tng I can do,’—' Walk in, then, sir,’ says Dame Margery, so polite and civil and simpering I never saw anything like it: and so she showed me into the breakfast-parlour and there left me. I let abuut ten minutes elapse; and then thinking that the coast mast be clear, I took a candle—atoie out of the parlour—orept up the stairs—and was within half-a-dosen steps of the landing, when lo and be- hold! the light of the candie suddenly showed me three Bow street runners sitting on the top step ELOOO® Ss