The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 209: what you’re looking at

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

194 and mounting on the head-board, as in the former instance, the Magsman renewed his operations by a determined attack on the ceiling of this cell on the first floor. If his progress were not so rapid as hitherto, and if the necessity of working in the dark materially impeded his operations, nevertheless he found some recompense in the fact that the roof he was now as- sailing was not near so thick as the one through which he had already passed. Nevertheless, the toil was arduous in the extreme: the dust, getting into his throat, created a burning thirst; and he was several times forced to descend and drink from the large pitcher of water in his own cell. But every piece of mortar which he broke away and every stone which he removed, appeared in his eyes to be another and another obstacle overcome ; and, so far from despairing, his hopes acquired strength as time progressed. Midnight sounded from St. Sepulchre’s just as the Magsman succeeded in raising a large flag which >overed the excavation he had formed in the vaulted :oof of this dungeon on the first floor; and in a few minutes he passed up into the cell overhead. Around the walls, in the total darkness, did he sweep his hands: but, alas! this time he was disappointed— for the place was entirely empty—and there was no iron bedstead to form a scaflolding. This contingency had however been provided for, as the reader will soon find, Descending into the room beneath, the Magsman thrust the blanket and cover-lid (alias horse-cloth) belonging to the bed, up into the top cell; and mount- ing thither once more, he resumed his operations with fresh energy, though working in utter darkness. Using the trusty crow-bar asa hammer, he drove two of the four nails which had been sent him, into pne of the walls, at a distance of five feet from the floor, and about a foot apart from each other. ‘The remaining two he drove into the opposite wall, pre- serving as nearly as he could guess the same relative position. He then unwound his ball ot silken cord, and fastened it from nail to nail, in such a manner that two parallel lines, with an interval of twelve inches, extended from wall to wall; and as the length of the string allowed these lines to be doubled, they were competent to bear a very considerable weight. The Magsman now folded the blanket and horse- cloth into a sort of square cushion, waich he placed upon the lines; and, having without much difficulty seated himself thereon, he was fairly balanced at a height of five feet from the floor, and at a convenient distance from the ceiling which he now attacked with his crow-bayr. One o’clock struck before the intrepid Joe Warren succeeded in moving the first stone. Well nigh ex- hausted with the extraordinary exertions he had al- ready made—so parched with thirst that his tongue seemed like a piece of charcoal—and finding his tight-rope scaffold, ingenious though the contrivance might be, most inconvenient for his operations, the nearer he drew tothe threshold of liberty, the greater became the difficulties which he had to encounter. But still he did his best; and he worked cheerily, cheerily on ;—nor would he waste time by descendiug into the cell on the ground-floor to slake his burning llrst with the water that was there. Every now and then he paused for a few moments to listen—and when some suspicious noise met his ears, the Magsmaa grasped his crow-bar all the more THE MYSTERIES. tightly, and ground his teeth together,—for he was animated with the ferocious resolve to murder the first person who might appear to molest him. But on each occasion his apprehensions proved ground- less—and he resumed his toils with a resuscitated energy. All on a sudden the silken cords snapped in twain —and Joe Warren fell heavily upon the stone pave. ment. He was sorely bruised; and for an instant he imagined that one of his legs was broken ;—but, rising slowly and painfully, he shook himself likea lion that has just escaped from the pursuit of hunter —and a savage growl burst from his breast. What was he todo? To mend the lines so as to enable them to bear his weight again, was impossible. A thought struck him!—he would descend to the cell beneath and pull the iron bedstead to pieces in order to form a scaffold for the continuation of his labours. Rolling up the blanket and horse-cloth, and fas- tening them together so as to constitute a rope, he tied one end round the huge flag-stone which he had displaced from the floor of the uppermost cell, and passed the rope through the hole into the dungeon beneath: because, when once the iron bedstead should have been broken up, he would lose that means of ascent into the top dungeon again, Descending into the cell on the first storey, he lowered the bedstead to its proper horizontal posi- tion, and tried the screws which held the various pieces together. But he was enveloped in darkness —the caudle in his own cell had been extinguised for the last two hours—and he could not possibly pursue his present operations in such dense obscurity. Gnashing his teeth with rage, and giving vent to horrible imprecations in an under tone, the Mags- man again aud again tried the screws with his crow- bar: but they were so completely rusted into their sockets, that half-an-hour was thus passed without producing the slightest effect upon any one of them. What was he to do? Again he asked himself this question; and, sitting down exhausted on the bed which he had fruitlessly endeavoured to break up, he wiped the perspiration and the dust from his throb- bing brows. The Magsman was perfectly ferocious: he chafed like a starved lion in a cage—he would have ruth- lessly murdered any turnkey or prison official who might have appeared at that moment. Yet something must be done! ‘Time was passing : the hour was already gone by at which his friends expected that he would have succeeded in working his way through the masonry of the top cell so that only athin sheet of lead should lie between him and liberty ! What if he were to tear the sacking of the straw- mattress into slips, and fasten them to the four nails in the place of the broken cord of silk? Yes—this was the only course which he could now adopt, Had there been a sacking, lashed with ropes in the usual way, to the bed, all this trouble and anxiety were spared him: but, alas! the foundation of that beds stead was a thin sheet of iron, supported by cross bars of the same metal, and on which the mattresg lay. N o time was to be Jost! With his powerful hands he tore open that mattress—turned out the straw— aud rent the coarse stuff into several long slips ‘hese he twisted up and fastened together; and, ase COM Ghooksseom