The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 291: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

2'0 most moral young women in the world, as your lordships may suppose. They have both got their fancy-men—reglar rum ‘ans. Biddy Burley, the eldest, is the blowen of Mat the s and Polly | THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. lordship, the Commissioners can do anything. And so can us constables too for that matter,” edded the | officer, with adaugh: “for we know very well thet the magistrates are sure to take our pert, unless it’s Surley, the youngest, has Spider Bill for her flash | something very outrageous indeed. But even then man. These chaps are the greatest thieves in Lon- , there’s generally a loop-hole found for us to creep don, and have been a many times on the everlasting staircase——that means the treadmill.” While the police-constable was thus on with the details of his information relative to the Burley family, he had conducted the two noblemen away from Covent Garden, into a dark, narrow, sinister-looking street leading out of Drury Lane. As they passed along, they suddenly came upon an individual who was leaning with his back against the closed gateway of a wheelwright’s workshop, as appeared by the white letters painted on the doors, and on which a light from the window of the oppo- aite house was fall. The man leaning there was Te een crossed, an wae nok cigar. The policeman stopped short, and him, “ Well, Harry—watching this hres till oh P* “Yes: and likely to watch it too,” was the re. sponse. “Uncommon tedious work, I can tell you. But stay—the door’s opening !” As he thus spoke he kept his eyes fixed on the ¢ pposite house whence the light wae streaming. The constable and the two noblemen looked in the same direction. The light now disappeared from the ‘vindow: the sound of bolts drawing back and a chain let down continued to be heard for a Yew mo- ments: then the dour opened—and an old man of very sordid and simster appearance came forth. He threw a glance across the narrow street at the group assembled opposite his dour, and gave | } ~ mocking iaugh -vhich sounded horrible as a des_.- rattle. Closing the door, the old man proceeded along the street; and the individual who had been addressed by the name of Harry, at once followed im. “ What's all this mean ?” asked Lord Saxondale of the constable-guide after a few moments’ silence. “That place,” answered the police-officer, peinting to the dwelling whence the old man had issued, “is @ receiving-house for stolen goods; and that old feller is the receiver himself. We cail him a fence; and he’s one of the sharpest in ‘Londen. The man Harry that I spoke to and that’s gone after him, is an officer of the Detective Force; and he will follow the old fence wherever he goes, no matter how long he may be absent. Thero's three of the Detectives that’s appointed for this special servico— to keep watch night and day; and they take their turns. This has been going on for the last five months, and will cost the county a precious sum of 99 ‘* But can’t they bring anything positive home to the old man, so as to get him punished at once?” ‘asked Staunton. “No. Simcoe he’s been watched he takes too good care of that,” replied the constable. “ Besides, that’s not so much the object—although of course | ‘ if there was a cause ho would very soon be took up. The chief object is to force him out of the neigh- bourhood, and make him break up his establish- ment,” “TI was not aware that the Police Commissioners possessed such power,” observed Lord Harold. “Power®™ echoed the constable. “DBiees your out of. This way, my lorde—and here we are.” While thus speaking, the constable had led the two noblemen round a turning into another street of even a more sinister than the one they had just quitted; and they had halted at the door of one of the blackened eut-throat-looking houses that formed the strest. The constable knocked at the door: but some minutes ere it was opened; end during this interval the sounds of numerous juvenile voices reached their ears from that ie breaking up for the holidays. . At length the door was opened by an ill-looking a | bloated yotng woman, of about five-and-twenty. to | Her hair seemed in as much disorder as if ehe had been creeping through a hedge: a dirty faded cotton. gown hung loosely upon her; and being open in front, left her coarse bosom indecently exposed. She evidently had no stays on, and indeed to bave no under-garments of any kind. Her dirtv stockings were dangling down; and her feet were thrust into an old pair of shoes trodden at the heels, a0 that they pattered on the floor like clogs when she walked. She held a candle in her hand—~ and had a half-tipsy look, as if che had been dis turbed in the midst of a revel. She however imme diately recognised the policeman; but not the leas ebashed nor troubled—on the contrary, with in mense effrontery—she asked him, with « horrid im what he wanted ? “Just to show these gentlemen yeur place, Biddy,” replied the constable. “That's all gammon,” anewered the woman. * ‘You're arter some of the kiachins--—” “"Pon my honour I'm not,” reicined the officer then in a whisper aside to the noblemen, he esid, “You had better give Biddy Burley a tip, my lords.” Saxrondale, who was always ready to dash his money ostentatiously, drew out his purse and gave the womas a sovereign, at sight of which her coun- tenance eheered up wondrously; end she ssid. | ‘¢ My eyes! you are swell coves, and no mistake. Come in, and you shall see the ken.” The two noblemen and the police-constable passed into the house, and found themecives in a narrow passage that went perceptibly aloping down towards a staircase at the end. All this time the sounds of voices hed continued to be heard in unabating uproarioumess. Shouting, ecreaming, laughing, swearing, singing, and quarrelling, seemed going on in every part of the house, as if it were a veritable pandemonium of little demons. Burley shut the street-door, and throwing open one leading into the ground floor front room, said, ‘ Here's some swell coves come to see the place. But they doesn’t belong to the’ Track S’iety, oos they're smoking cigars and docen't wear white chokers.” “So much the better. I can’t abeer them CORNICE Oe CO