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Penny Dreadfuls, 1900 · page 252 of 399

The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 252: what you’re looking at

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The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 252: Penny Dreadfuls, 1900

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THE MYSTERIES. 235 A second glance convinced the surgeon that Ramsey's eyes were open; and at the same instant that this certainty flashed to his mind, the hanged man moved his head slowly round. Thurston’s terror—even if the feeling deserved so emphatic a name—was only momentary; and rashing op to the dissecting board, whereon he placed the light, he examined Ramsey's counte- nance with earnest attention for a few instants. Yes—he was alive: and the surgeon hastened to remove the cord from his throat: then having pro- cured some restoratives from the pharmacy, he ap- plied them with such goed effect that the criminal geedily revived. But as he lay gasping with the efforts made by the expanding Jangs to resume their functions, it suddenly struck Thurston that he was now placed ia a most painful position. What was he to do with the man, should he completely recover? To hand him up again to justice were impossible: for such a step would render himself liable to the pe- nalties of the law for having suborned individuals to obtain possession of the body by false and ille- gitimate means. To turn him adrift into the streets was an act from which even the selfish mind of the surgeon revolted ;—and to keep him for ahy length of time at the house was dangerous as well as be- iog repugnant to his feelings. These reflections swept through the brain of Thurston as he stood by the side of the table, watching the spasmodic writhings which shook the strong frame of the man who was throwing off the coils of death :—and now consciousness slowly, siowly dawned in upon Ramsey's soul—but only as a feeble lamp, taken into a charnel-bouse, gradually and one by one lights up the horrors of the place. First he remembered that he had been doomed to die: next his imagination showed him the terrible peraphernalia of the scaffold—the black beams— the countless crowds around;—then the death- knell seemed again to be tolling in his ears, and his fancy revived the faneral service as it was droned forth by the Ordinary ;—and lastly there was the fall of the fatal drop, followed by the tre- mendous jerk experienoed at the throat, and the gush of blood, hot as fire, up into the burning, barsting brain. Oh! how agonising was the spasm which shook the criminal from the hair of his head to the soles of his feet as the slow operation of a languidly re- viving consciousness brought his memory down to this appalling catastrophe ;—and a hollow moan of anguish burst from his fips. Then closing his eyes, he seemed to exert all his powers to steady, collect, and settle his thoughts—so that hé might assure himself how much was a horrible dream and how mech was 4 hideous reality. At length, slowly raising his heavy lids again, he fixed his looks searchingly upon the countenance of the medical man; and thence his eyes wandered round the room, as if he were unable to compre- hend where he was or what phase of existence, mortal or eternal, had succeeded the agonies pro- duced by the fall of the drop. But suddenly a light flashed upon his mind; and the convulsion which it cansed him to experience un- locked his tongue. “You are a surgeon,” he said, in a faint voice ;— and then his eyes were fixed beseechingly upon bim to whom those words were addressed. “ Yes: but tranquillise yourself,” answered Thurston: “I will not betray you.” A feeble smile moved the lips of Ramsey as this assurance fell upon his ear; and Thurston, lifting the still powerless wretch from the table, carried him into the surgery, where he placed him in an arm-chair before the cheerful fire that was still blazing in the grate. He next administered some hot brandy-and- water; and in another half-hour the criminal was resuscitated beyond all danger of a relapse. “T will now tell you,” said Thurston, “how I pro- pose to act with regard to you. As a matter of course I know who you are and all about you: but pru- dence requires that you should not know who i am or whereabouts in London this dwelling is situated. It will be impossible to remove you hence for some hours: you will therefore occupy a bed beneath my roof until to-morrow night—during which intetval you will be comparatively restored to strength. f will then adopt measures to place you in a condition of security and beyond the reach of danger.” With tears streaming from his eyes did Ramsey pour forth his soul in gratitude to the surgeon who was thus performing—though rather in obedience to necessity than to his own free will—the first generous action which had ever characterised his life. Circumstances now absolutely required that Mrs Thurston should be made acquainted with what had occurred. She knew that her htsband expected a subject that night; and it was not, therefore, very difficult to break the truth to her. For it would have been impossible for the surgeon to lodge Ramsey in any bed-room without her knowledge; and het con nivance was also necessary to prevent the domestics from suspecting that a guest was in the house under circumstances so mysteriousas to lead them to hazard all kinds of disagreeable conjectures. He accordingly informed Ramsey of the ne- cessity which compelled him to make a confidant of his wife; and he quitted the surgery to seek her chamber for that purpose. But scarcely had the door closed behind him, when a thousand wild and terrible ideas rushed to the imagination of the unhappy man whom he left seated in the arm-chair. Was the alleged reason for the surgeon’s absence merely a pretext to lull suspicion while he went out to fetch a constable _—did the medical practitioner intend to consign him back again to the grasp ot justicef—should he have to mount the scaffold a second time? Oh! the thoughts were agonising— excruciating ; and every instant they acquired a deeper and stronger hold upon the miserable wretch’s mind, enfeebled and attenuated as it was by the ter- rible phase throngh which his existence had just passed. {t never struck him, in the horrified disorder ot that train of reflections which swept across his fevered imagination, that Thurston had no need to resort to subterfuge if he were playing a treacherous part ; but that he might have alarmed the house, or have easily bound the resuscitated criminal in his chair until an officer was summoned. No—nothing of all this pre- sented itself to Ramsey’s contemplation. His thoughts were in a state of horrible whirlwind: his brain was a delirium. He must fly—Oh ! he must fly from this house of an enemy—from this abode of a man who was about to deliver him up to justice: he must Ay—he must fly! COMGLOO S COMM