The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 313: what you’re looking at

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

THE GATHERING OF A STORM 287 “ About ten, but to-night, being Saturday, I keep it open until twelve.” ‘‘ Well, it’s just close upon twelve now,” observed Coffin, ‘‘and so I suppose you can shut up at once, can’t you? ”’ “Do you want me to do anything for you?” asked Taggarty. ‘Yes, I don’t exactly feel it convenient to go home,’ rejoined Coffin, ‘‘ and therefore I want you to run down and tell Sal that she must come up and see me at once.”’ “What, in the middle of the night?” exclaimed the chandler. ‘‘ Then there must be really summut very un- pleasant that’s occurred? ”’ ‘In plain terms, Bill,” said the Hangman, “ I am afraid that the traps are after me.” ‘What for? Some new affair?’ asked Taggarty. “ Oh, I will tell you all about it when you come back. You go and fetch Sally or Dick, but I would rather have Sally, of the two.” ‘‘ By the bye, what’s become of Jack the Foundling? ” inquired the chandler, as he rose from his seat and put on his hat to depart on the errand now entrusted to him. ‘Oh, he’s been out of my hands a long time,’’ answered Coffin, ‘‘ and I don’t know what the deuce has become of him. He got well-nigh killed on Westminster Bridge seven or eight months ago, — it’s too long a story to tell now, — and was taken to a surgeon’s close in the neighbourhood where the accident occurred, and ever since then | have lost all trace of him. But don’t let us wait to chatter. You cut down to Fleet Lane and make Sal come up shortly. On second thoughts, she had better not come with you, or yet take a direct course; and if she should think there is any- body on the watch dogging her steps, then she mustn’t come here at all, but must go quite in another direction, so as to put them off their scent. Now, then, Bill, do you under- stand, and will you manage this thing cleverly, as you know how to do it if you like? ”’ ‘T will, Dan’el,’’ returned the chandler; and he forth- with took his departure. An hour elapsed, during which the Hangman experienced the most feverish anxiety, which was moreover artificially stimulated by the deep inroads he made upon Taggarty’s gin-bottle. He frequently gnashed his teeth with rage, or (C(O) nn) GDoOo Sai in