The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 63: what you’re looking at

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50 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. grinder,—“ this work may take a little longer time. But I could do either in an hour, generally king.” ‘That will do. Now wheel your rattle-trap out of the rond, behind these trees, and wait till I come back.” Having thus spoken, John the footman hastened back into the house; and in a few minutes be re- turned with an umbrella and a couple of pairs of acissors in his hands. “There's our cook's old cotton umbrella which she wants mended,” he said; “and these scissors belong to the housemaid and tiring-woman. You'll do them nicely, of course? But these keys,” added the footman,” in a lower tone, as he produced the articles named, “are mine — and this old rusty one, must be made exactly like that new bright one.” “ All right—and no questions axed,” returned the knife-grinder. * Uome back in three-quarters of en hour, and everything shall be done.” John the footman accordingly burried back into the house; and the knife-grinder fell to work in tho field, behind the clamp of trees, where he had wheeled his machine. He first ground the scissors, whistling all the time in a free and easy fashion, as if perfectly at ease within himeelf, despite the little trouble to which he had alluded as the cause of a somewhat precipitate flight from London. Having disposed of the scissors, he sate down and cobbled up the umbrella: and then he examined the keys. They were both small, but of the same size, although utterly dissimilar in respect to the wards; and as the knjfe-grinder examined the bright key, he muttered to himself, “ Ah! this belongs to a patent look—and a pretty intricate thing it is, too! But I dare say I can manage the business.” Then, opening a drawer which fitted into the frame-work of his machine, he carefully examined a number of keys contained therein. Those keys were all sorts, shapes, fashions, and sizes; and it seemed impossible that there could be in ex- istence a lock which at least some of them would not open. At length the knife-grinder found amongst the collection, a key which exactly cor- responded with the bright one which the footman had left with him. As for the old rusty key also placed in his hands by the livery-servant, he tossed it amongst the others in the drawer, which hethen shut and carefully fastened. Having thus easily performed his work, he smoked his pipe, until the three quarters of an hour had elapsed—when John re-appeared from Mrs. Owen's mansion. “Well, have you finished?” he inquired enxiously. “If I hadn’t, I should still be at work,” an- swered the knife-grinder. ‘ Here’s the humberel- ler—and here's the scithors——” ‘But the keys ?” demanded John, with an im- patience which he could not subdue. “ Here,” returned the knife-grinder. “And now I'll be bound you can’t tell me which is the pew ‘un and which is the old ‘un ?” ‘‘ No—may I be hanged if I can !” exclaimed the livery-servant, compering the two keys with mingled admiration and surprise. “By jingo! you're a clover fellow and a quick workman : why, one would think it must have taken pretty nearly all the time to polish that cursed old rusty key that I gave you—to say nothing about tae aiter- ing of all the wards.” “ You see I’m accustomed to it,” observed the knife-grinder, carelessly. “ But I should think you yourself can hardly tell which of these keys was the rusty one,” said John. “T should be a fool if I couldn’t diskiver my own work,” replied the man bluntly. “ But come, tip us the rhino, I want to be off and get a glass of ale, for this is cursed dry work.” “Well, I won't keep you, my good fellow,” said John. ‘There's the guinea I promised, and here's half-a-crown to pay for the other things, and to get yourself some ale with.” “ Thank'ee, kindly, master. And now just tell us where they draw a good drop of beer ?” “ Why, the best is at the Xeng's Arms, yonder.” returned the footman. “Good evening.” ‘Good evening, master,” said the knife-grinder: and catching up the handles of his barrow-like machine, he trundled it back into the road whistling blithely as he went along. Ee CHAPTER XIV. THE TAP-ROOM. Ax hour afterwards—that is to aay, at about nine o'clock in the evening—John, the footman, re- paired to the King’s Arms ale-house. Ashe the bar, he nodded to the landlord with the familiarity of a well-known frequenter of the house; and he was about to enter the tap-room, when a thought strack him, and he stopped short. “Has a knife-grinding fellow been here this evening ?” he inquired of the host, who was a stout, jolly-looking man, with a honest counte- nance, and a rubicund complexion. ‘“ Yese—about two hours back, I should think it must be,” was the answer. “ He only took a glass of ale and went off. But why do you ask?” ‘‘Ohb! merely because I wanted the fellow to do some jobe for me; and as he paseed along the road just now I asked him where he was going, and ho said to the King’s Arms. But it’s no matter ~I suppose he’s off on the tramp again. Is any one in the tap-room ?” ** Two persons, I think,” answered the land- lord. ‘And one of ’em inquired if you'd been in this evening. I fancy he’s the same that I've secn here before in your company.” * Ah! I expected some one—it’s all right—an acquaintance of mine,” observed John, affecting a careless manner. “ Whos the other ?” “ T don’t know—a country-looking fellow,” was the reply. ‘ What shall I bring you in?” “Ale—a pint of your best,” returned John; and having thus given his orders, he passed on, and en- tered the tap-room. As the landlord had stated, he found two persons there. One was his friend Daniel, the hangman, tho other was an individual in a peasant's garb, with a matted shock of light hair, a florid oom- plexion, and a peculiarly stolid look. His age seemed to be midway between thirty and forty ; and from his general eppearance he was evi- dently a farm-labourer. He sate in a corner of the room, and was busily engaged in discussing a supper of bread and cheese, which ho seasoned GORMGOOOKXS COMM