The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 320: what you’re looking at

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

294 THE COURT OF LONDON by the Hangman, whose grim countenance expanded into a sort of smile of satisfaction on beholding Sally Melmoth, for he was just now in that desperate situation when such a proof of fidelity on her part was calculated to touch his stony heart. ‘Now you can talk over matters together,” said Jeremy, ‘¢ and I will come back to you in half an hour.” “ Very good,” said the Hangman; and when the old fence had quitted the room, he drew his chair close up to Sally Melmoth, saying, ‘“‘ Now, tell me all about it.” “IT don’t know how it was,” began the woman, “ but when Bencull sent up for you this evening I thought there was something wrong, and I was very dull and miserable after you went out. It was half-past seven when you left, and Dick was gone out. So there I was left all alone, to mope by myself, till the blues came over me. At about ten Dick came back, and finding me so miserable, he would make me take some spirits. Well, he and I were just sitting down to a comfortable glass, when a knock was heard at the door, and on Dick’s opening it, in walked three of Mr. Sampson’s men. Of course they wouldn’t believe us when we declared that you wasn’t in, and they searched the whole place. We asked what was the matter, but they would not tell us; they were as mum as mice. At length, being satis- fied that you was not there, they went away. As soon as they were gone and I thought the coast was clear, I stole out and cut across to the Folly Bridges as quick as my legs would carry me. But when I got down to Bencull’s, the place was all shut up and no light to be seen. Three or four groups of people were, however, talking together in low whispers in Mill Street, and I went up to one party and asked what was the matter. Then they told me that Mr. Lawrence Sampson, with a lot of his men, had suddenly invaded Ben- cull’s house, some getting in by the gallery behind, and others bursting open the street door. They took Bencull, the Mushroom Faker, and Bob the Durrynacker prisoners, and hurried them away. But one of the constables, who, it seems, had watched in the street while the capture was being made, told the inhabitants who came out of the neighbouring houses that it was on account of the murder of a gal named Nell Gibson, and that one of the chaps engaged in it had peached. I likewise heard the people say that Daniel EOMMGIOO S CO