The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 318: what you’re looking at

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

292 THE COURT OF LONDON son’s house, and as initials and armorial bearings were engraven on every article of the plunder, the melting-pot was gradually fusing the whole into a solid mass. Jeremy and his friend were chatting gaily, drinking their wine, as they watched the melting process, and taking it by turns to work the bellows. Suddenly a sharp ring was heard at the street door. By the light of the candles, as well as by that of the candescent charcoal under the melting-pot, the two fences gazed upon each other with troubled looks, for notwithstanding the admirable precautions taken to conceal the laboratory where their operations were going on, their consciences were not sufficiently pure to guarantee them against the sudden alarm which this imperious ringing at such an hour was so well calculated to excite. The old housekeeper had for some hours past been in bed; but even if she were up, she would not have been permitted to open the door at that time of night, or, rather, morning. Old Jeremy therefore rose from his seat, took one of the candles, and issuing forth from the room, carefully closed the mysterious door behind him. Descending the stairs, he drew back the bolts of the front door, but left the chain still up, so that when open to the width of a foot it -was still safely secured against any intruder. & ‘“‘ Let me in, Mr. Jeremy, let me in,’’ said a female voice. “‘ IT wish to speak to you particularly.” “Who are you? ” he inquired. ‘“‘ Don’t you know me, Sally Melmoth? ”’ was the response. ‘“ Ah! Daniel Coffin’s friend. But what do you want? ”’ “T cannot speak here, and it is important. Let me in.” Jeremy Humpage hesitated no longer, but letting go the chain, gave the woman admittance. Then closing the door, he replaced the chain and shot the bolts back into their sockets. Having done this, he led the way into a little par- lour on the ground floor, and, placing the light upon the table, awaited the explanation which the woman had to give for this unseasonable visit. ‘“ Mr. Humpage, pray don’t be angry with me,’’ she began, “but I am in very great trouble.” “Trouble!” he immediately ejaculated, trembling all over, “then what on earth do you come to me for? You know very well that I can’t help you. But what sort of trouble is it? Something about Daniel Coffin, I suppose. COMmiclooo® S (C(O) im