The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES. Such was the scene revealed to the eyes of the commercial traveller by means of a candle dimly burning and with a wick so long that it appeared as if it had not been snuffed for hours. joy shot athwart the wan and ghastly countenance of the invalid as a human being thus burst upon his frightful loneliness: and Page’s immediate impulse was to pour water into acup and hold it to the parched lips of the sufferer, But the man could not raise himself evena single inch to partake of the beverage, ardently longed for though it were ; and the commercial traveller was forced to lift and sustain him while he poured the water down his throat. The cup was emptied—and as the invalid fell back in the sorry, sordid couch, his hollow eyes were raised with an expression of indescribable eratitude towards Page’s countenance. “ What more can I do for you, my good man?” asked the commercial traveller, ina mild and en- couraging tone. “You seem to be very, very ill—and alone——” “ Yes—yes—all alone—alone !” murmured the in- valid, knitting his brows in a manner indicative of mingled rage and despair. “The ungrateful girl ——Julia——to desert her own father——leave me for hours——yes, hours——” “Then you are hungry ?—you require food—and you are unable to rise from your bed to take it ?” exclaimed Page. “ Ah! I understand, poor man— but I will get you food.” “Stay, sir—stay !” said the invalid, as the com- mercial traveller was turning towards the cupboard to fetch a morsel of bread to place between the fa- mished being’s lips: “stay, sir,’’ he repeated, his voice acquiring strength, now that his throat was no longer parched with a torturing thirst,—*I do not require food—I could not eat—I—I am dying!” “T will run and fetch hither a doctor!” exclaimed the bustling and agile Page, now springing towards the door. “ No—no—stay, I implore you!” said the invalid, in an appealing tone. “I am past all hope—beyond the influence of human aid—I feel that Iam dying! And when I am gone—but I must not waste words —my voice is failing me—a dimness is coming over my eyes—where are you, sir?—why have you put out the light ?” And the workings of the invalid’s ghastly coun- tenance were horrible—horrible to behold! “Tam here, my good man—and I have not ex- tinguished the light,” returned Page, bending over the bed. ‘ But speak—tell me what you haveto say —give me your injunctions——” * Stoop down—place your ear close to my lips,” resumed the dying man, now speaking with extreme difficulty: “are you close?” * Yes—yes—proceed !”’ exclaimed the commercial traveller, breathless with suspense. “Place your hand beneath my pillow—just under my head,” gasped the old man: “there—take that pocket-book——ttell Julia Oh! Iam dying—— My God! my God! pardon-—-merey——Hannah —Julia—Julia——Oh! merey———pardon——par- don——” And with a deep groan, he expired, At the same instant, as if with an ominous emble- matic significancy, the candle sank down in its socket and was extinguished. A panic-terror seized upon the commercial traveller; A gleam of 47 for the scene of death which he had just witnessed, and to the contemplation whereof he had been so suddenly and unexpectedly impelled by circum- stances, was horrible and shocking. There was likewise something appalling in the simultaneousness with which the living man had changed into a breath- less corse and the chamber was plunged into total darkness ; and the state of excitement in which Page had been kept for many, many hours, now under- went a rapid and fearful reaction. Grasping, however, the pocket-book which he had taken from beneath the old man’s pillow, he hastened precipitately down the stairs,—his almost frantic speed accelerated by the horrible thought that some- body or something was pursuing him, and that the cold hand of a corpse would suddenly be laid upon his shoulder or would clutch the skirts of his coat. On reaching the front-door, he began to breathe a little more freely ; and while he paused for an instant to secure the pocket-book about his person, a sense of all the danger with which his egress from the house would be attended, rushed back to his mind. The death-scene had temporarily driven from his recollection the previous incidents of the night: but now he remembered that he had escaped from a hor- rible dungeon, and that should he encounter any of the Magsman’s party while issuing forth into the street, his re-capture and renewed imprisonment were inevitable. Nevertheless, he could not remain longer in this house of death—for the echoes of his own footsteps appeared to be the sounds of the corpse descending the stairs in pursuit of him ! Opening the door, therefore, with the courage of utter desperation, Mr. Page stepped across the thres- hold—and a rapid glance up and down the narrow court in which he now found himself, afforded the encouraging assurance that his movements-were un- observed. ‘ That hurried, anxious glance was sufficient to show the commercial traveller that the houses enclosing this vile alley into which he had emerged, were poor and wretched in outward appearance, and that the locality was evidently a low and disreputable neigh- bourhood. For an instant his eyes lingered on the two houses of which he had seen the interior: namely, the one whence he had just emerged—and that where he had been incarcerated. Lights gleamed from the upper windows of the latter; and Page thought within himself, ‘‘ The miscreants in those chambers little suspect that their accursed subterranean cell is now empty !” Away he sped from the court, the name of which he vainly endeavoured to decypher beneath the entrance archway where it was painted ;—and thence he emerged into a long, narrow, and unpaved street, the aspect of whose houses confirmed him in his opinion that he was in some low neighbourhood. On he went at random, in the hope of finding a hackney- coach stand, and not choosing to ask where he was of the few stragglers whom he met, for fear of exciting some suspicion which might lead him into fresh em- barrassments:—on he went, we say, penetrating through a maze of streets, and alleys, and little thoroughfares, none of the names whereof could he possibly ascertain in the darkness of the night. Suddenly the clock of some neighbouring church proclaimed the hour of two in the morning ;—and in a few minutes Page found himself in the immediate vicinity of a dock, which he knew to be in the dis- _——— et te o Clooolks. conn a Ry le” Com