The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 65: what you’re looking at

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62 . sce too: and, by all the fiends! I'll slit the ancf: nt villain’s windpipe if he don’t treat us well in the matter.” “If you speak so loud you'll awake that bump- kin in the corner there,” said John, pointing with his pipe towards the countryman. “Ah! I forgot him,” observed the Hangman. “Bat those fellows sleep like tops. Well, now we've to settle the night for this little business of our’n—and then I shall be off.” “You're going back to London to-night, Dan’el said the footman, interrogatively. “To be sure I am—or else how the devil could I be at business to-morrow morning at seven o’clock ?? demanded the Hangman. “ Ah! that barbering dodge of your's is a capital blind!” observed John, with a subdued chuckle. “But you’ve got such a precious agrecable and pleasant look, that I wonder half your customers ain't afraid to trust their faces to your rasor. There's such a short distance between the chin and the throat——~” “Come, none of your chaffing,” growled the Hangman, sulkily. “We didn’t make ourselves: if we did, may be I should have put a handsumer head on my body.” “And then you wouldn’t have done for the office of Jack Keteh,” rejoined the livery-servant, whom the landlord's stroug ale had enlivened into a ban- tering mood. “Bat what with the joint avocations of Public Executioner and Cheap Barber, my friend Dan’el Coffin is the most important per- sonage in Fleet Lane, Farringdon Street, London.” “I say, old fellow,” exclaimed the Hangman, his countenance becoming terribly dark and his eyes giaring with luminous fires,—“do you want me to flatten this pewter pot on your skull? Because if you do, you're going just the right way to provoke me to it. What the devil has come upon you all of a sudden” “ Why, can’t you stand a joke, Dan’el,” said the livery-servant. “I'm eure I didn’t mean to offend you—— “ Well, well,” interrupted the Hangman, suffer- ing himself to be appeased. “But I’m not of the liveliest temper in the werld, you know,” he added, with a ghastly attempt at a smile; “and I can’t understand a jest. Now, then—once more, what night is it to be?” “Suppose we say next Sunday night,” observed John, after a few minutes’ consideration. “The old lady never has any company of a Sunday even- jug, and always goes to bed Rad “Let it be Sunday evening, then,” said Jack Ketch: “and in the meantime I'll see old Jeremy and whisper to him what's in the wind.” “Do so,” rejoined the footman. “At mid- night punctually -you'll—_—” The remainder of the sentence was breathed in the lowest tone to the Hangman’s ear. “Good! The appointment shall be kept to a moment,” replied the latter worthy: then, having emptied bis pewter Pot he rose to take his John the the footman likewlee tossed off the temainder of his ale; and the two friends sepa- rated, leaving the country bumpkiu still souriug in tae corner of the tap-room. TRE WYRTERI ER OF THR COURT. CHAPTER XV. OUTRAGE AND MYSTEB Y. Iz was on this seme Tuesday evening of which wé have just been writing, thas an incident occurred is the neighbourhood of Canterbury, which we must pause to chronicle in its proper place. The sun had set—the delicious softness and calmness of twilight was upon the scene — the flowers were closing up their buds, as if wearied of expending their fragrance on a thankless sir—and the twitter of the birds became fainter in the trees. The charming Louisa was seated in that bower where we last beheld ber in company with the handsome and adoring Jocolyn Luftus. She was alone—and pensive: but her pensiveness was not imbued with affliction—scarcely with sorrow. It was rather the stagnant thought of love: for she had been pondering the whole day, and was pon- dering now, upon the image of the youzg man te whom she had given Ser heart. On the preceding evening he had told her thas he must leave Canterbury for a few days—perhape not more than three: bus at all eveuts, be had po- sitively assered her that his absence woald not extend beyond s week at the very outside. His contemp'sted marriage with the charming maiden, by involving a change of position, rendere! it ne- for him to repair to London to louk into his affairs: and Louisa had given him a letter whioh he undertook to deliver in person to Clara in Strat- ton Street. He was naturally anxious to avaii himself of this opportunity of paying his respects to the sister of his beloved one; and the reaaee may rest assured that Louisa had nos onl writen a very Jong letter, but had also charged Witaa s thousand fond messages for Clara. Jocelyn, who had been residing for many weeks atan botel in Canterbary, took his departare by the first coach un the Tuesday morning, so that he might reach London at an early hour in the even- ing, and thus have time to write letters to those persons whom he intended to call upon next day. For he was really and saturally most anxious to dispose of his business with al] possible prompti- tade, in order to retarn the sooner to Canterbury and to the sweet society of her whom he leved with such wafeigned devotion. Louisa was therefore now alone,—alone, at the delicious twilight hour, in the umbrageous arbour. She thought of everything that Jocelyn had said to her on the precedicg evening,—how be had im- plored her to be happy daring his temporary ab- sence—how he had affectionately kissed away har tears, whispering the tenderest vows and protes- tations the while. she thooght also that she was bound to rejoice at this visit which he was paying to London, inasmoch as it would farnish the oppor- tunity of rendering him acquainted with her sister, | end also of ascertaining that she was both well and happy. And then, too, this jourrey to the metropolis was andertaken for the purpose of set- tling his affairs previously to the arrangements for that bridal ceremony which was to make him in- dissolubly her own: and therefore, as she reviewed ali these circumstances, Louisa could not well ex- perience affliction at ber lover’s absence. GDoo I COMM <S co