The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

OS n-—-—-—— Ooo es 29 THE my own house, Briggs let me pass through the open- ing which you had made in the wall. This was the way that I got in—and, on going up-stairs, I found my father a corpse in his bed. In the course of the day I noticed that the front door had been unbolted and unlocked—and I was surprised. But now you have explained the mystery.” “Was your father very rich, Julia?” asked Page, fixing upon her z searching look, “ Rich !” she ejaculated, with an ironical laugh. “ Ah! I see—my suspicions are confirmed—he was a miser!” exclaimed the commercial traveller. “But you don’t know—you haven’t any idea where he was accustomed to conceal his wealth?’—and again he bent his eyes significantly on the young woman. “Not I, indeed!” she observed, in a strange tone. “ Nevertheless,’ she added, almost immediately, “there must have been a large quantity a “ Of cold somewhere—eh ?” cried Page, chuckling. “ ‘Yes—yes—you are right there, my dear. And now, what will you do for me if I help you to—to—this treasure?” he demanded, hesitating whether he should impart his secret to her, or devise some scheme to become the sole possessor of the wealth to which he supposed the serap of paper to allude. “What will L do for you?” she exclaimed: “ any- thing you like.” “Tt would be a pity to divide it,’ remarked Page, again eyeing her significantly. “A sum of money that is a fortune in itself, only makes two poor competencies when split into equal shares.” “Pray explain yourself,” observed the young woman, impatiently. “ T suppose—that is, I hope—I believe—I pre- sume you are a single woman, Julia?” said the com- mercial traveller, endeavouring to ogle her tenderly. “Oh! that I am,” she exclaimed, flippantly. “ What next ?” “Nothing particular now—at least on that point,” returned Page. * But we must at once pass on to another important feature in the business which we have in hand together. Is this your father’s writing ?” he demanded, with a cunning look, as he produced the scrap of paper. Julia took the documentary fragment in her hand —glanced rapidly over it—and, with a sudden ani- mation of countenance, exclaimed, “ Yes—this is the old man’s writing: and now we may be rich for the remainder of our days!” “TIT thought so!” ejaculated Page, delighted at finding his fondest hopes thus completely fulfilled. ““Come—let us visit the cellar without delay, and in- spect the treasure. I will then tell you why I asked whether you were married or not.” The girl smiled significantly, as if she read her companion’s meaning and required no farther expla- nation: and Page was pleased to observe that she possessed a very good set of teeth. They now descended the stairs to the kitchen, where Julia lighted a lantern, observing that the draught would blow out the candle; and thence they proceeded to the cellar. Lhe first object which met the eyes of the com- mercial traveller was the pile of masonry which had been detached from the aperture that had enabled himself and Sir Richard Stamford to escape from the adjoining cellar on the preceding night ;—and a chill passed over him ashe thought of the possibility of his revisit to that neighbourhood being discovered MYSTERIES. by the ruffian Briggs or any of his vile confederates —the consequence of which detection would inevi- tably be a re-consignment to his old quarters, with unconquerable precautions against another escape. He therefore hesitated for a few moments on the upper step leading into the cellar, and was almost in- clined to beat a precipitate retreat: but Julia, who had preceded him, held the lantern high up so as to fling the light upon the spot which she indicated, as she observed, “There’s the stone which the paper alludes to.” The idea of being within reach, as it were, of a treasure which his imagination represented to be of no insignificant amount, restored Page to that des- perate courage wherewith he had armed himself for the present enterprise; and boldly descending the steps, he proceeded to inspect the stone beneath which the miser’s hoardings lay. “Tt will require some strong instrument to raise it,” he observed, at the expiration of a few moments. “There is a pick-axein the kitchen,” said Julia; “and I have often wondered what it could be for. Now I understand why my father sometimes required such a thing.” Thus speaking, she tripped lightly away to fetch the implement—while Page retraced his steps to the threshold of the cellar, so as to guard against any treacherous intention which might possibly exist on the girl’s part to close the door upon him. On her return in about a minute, with the pick-axe in her hand, she immediately conjectured what was passing in the mind of the commercial traveller: for, gazing intently upon his countenance, the young woman said, * You are perhaps right as a prudent man to mistrust me: but if you knew how much I hate the people next door—I mean Briggs and all his friends—you would not be alarmed. Besides, have you not come on a business which may prove beneficial to me?-—and why, therefore, should I seek to do you an injury ?” “Tam glad you have spoken to me in this manner,” said Page, perceiving that Julia was rapidly losing her sullenness of temper and acquiring confidence in him: * because it makes me feel all the more plea- sure in co-operating with you. You area nice girl, Julia,’ he added, patting her face and again ogling her tenderty—which little indications of the matri- monial views which she suspected him to entertain were far from disagreeable to the girl. “ Now, then—get to work,” she exclaimed, smiling, and fixing her bold eyes wantonly on the commercial traveller. He returned the leer, and took the pick-axe from her hand: then, throwing back his cloak, he com- menced operations, ‘Ihe mortar which surrounded the flag-stone was not particularly hard; and the task of raising it was speedily accomplished. When it was removed, half-a-dozen canvass bags of tole- rable size appeared in a small hollow beneath. “Six thousand gwineas, at the lowest computa- tion!” ejaculated Mr. Page, his heart leaping with delight; and, taking up one of the bags, he weighed itin his hand. “ Yes—this contains a thousand, I am sure!” he added, in a tone of exultation. “ How shall we remove them?” asked Julia, also in a joyous manner: “ and where shall we take them to 2” “ First into the kitchen—or up-stairs, in the room to which you showed me just now,” responded the commercial traveller. oad Gom (ElOOOIKS, COM