The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

76 scribed at the Dancing Bear. Joe Dean, having first of all given the bird some water, de- tached the billet from beneath its wing—read its contents—made a mark upon it with a pen— folded it up again—and attached it once more to the pinion of the feathered messenger. Having fed and caressed the dove, he let it loose again through the trap-door ; and away it sped on the third and last stage of its aerial journey. The lad, having noticed the time by his watch, there- upon went down stairs and communicated to his father the nature of the message which had just been received. Again must we transport the reader’s attention to some distance; and this time we halt at Dover. There, in one of the principal streets, was @ tavern of respectable appearance, bearing the sign of the Admiral’s Head. It was kept by an old man named Marshall, who in his younger days had served on board one of the privateers which Dover in the war-time was wont to send forth to prey upon the French maritime com- merce. His father had been the owner and cap- tain of the privateer, and had amassed some little money, with which at the Peace he had es- tablished himself at the Admiral’s Head. Robert Marshall, the present owner of the place, was considered to be a respectable man enough. His house was well frequented; and he was known to be comfortable in his circumstances. He was always regular in his attendance at church—sub- scribed to charities—sent the clergyman of the parish a handsome present at Christmas—and never had any complaints made against his house on the score or irregularity or disorder. He therefore stood uncommvunly well with the leading persons in the town; and if a whisper did now and then circulate that old Bob Marshall had ex- cellent French brandy in his establishmeut which had never passed the Custom House, or that his wife and daughters went to church on Sundays in French silks, gloves, and shoes, upon which no duty had ever been paid to the British govern- eee THE MYoiERIES OF THE COURT. storey of the house, and that in the roof of this chamber there were precisely the same contriv- ances as those which we have already explained at the fed Dragon on Boughton Hill, and the Dancing Bear near Gravesend. Yetsuch was the fact: and in that neat little but somewhat airily situated chamber, did Kate Marshall sleep; and whenever the tinkling bell sounded she was as ready to spring from her couch as either Joe Dean or Becky Patch at their respective habita- tions. An elegant little French time-piece standing upon the chest of drawers, intimated that it wanted ten minutes to three o'clock, when the tinkling summons was given; and Miss Kate was suddenly startled from a very pleasant dream in which the image of ber intended husband—the captain of a small trading vessel—was conspi- cuous. Leaping from the couch, she at once per- ceived by the aid of her night-lamp, which she always kept burning, a beautiful cavrier-pigeon upon a rail a couple of feet below the trap-door. Her plump white arm was immediately out- stretched to receive the little messenger; and the next moment the sweet bird was fonJly nestling in its kind friend’s bosom. Then she gave it water ; and detaching the little billet from beneath its wing, hastily opened it. A small manuscript- book which she took from a drawer, and which was filled with dates, references, and initial letters, promptly refreshed her memory so as to supply the key to the reading of the scroll, which with- out such a clue wonld necessarily have been a mere jargon as incomprehensible as the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Having made herself acquainted with the words upon the paper, she proceeded to administer food to the bird. This being done, she fondled and caressed it again for a minute or two, and then let it escape through the trap-door in the roof of her chamber. Kate Marshall now hastily slipped on some _clothing,and stealing down stairs, knocked gently meut,—Bob Marshall was not wanting in influ- | ential friends to take up the cudgels on his behalf and defend him against what they declared to be | a most scandalous imputation. Mr. Marshall had three daughters, whose ages averaged from about eighteen to twenty-four ; and very fine, good-looking, and genteel young women they were. The eldest, whose Christian name was Catherine —familiarly abbreviated into Kate—had from her girlhood been very fond of keeping poultry, pigeons, and other favourites of the feathered tribe in the large stable-yard in the rear of the tavern. Especially had she a very choice and beautiful breed of doves, to which she was greatly attached; and though some of the neighbours found that these birds were wont to get upon the tops of their houses and displace the tiles, they never complained angrily, because old Marshall was invariably so ready to have any such damage repaired at his own expense, and Miss Kate was sure to make compensation by sending a faf turkey or a brace of pullets asa propitiation at Christmas. at the chamber where her father and mother sl«pt. Mr. Marshall immediately rose, put on a dressipg- gown, and admitted his daughter. “ A message, I suppose?” he at once said as he entered the room. ‘From Lady Bess,” responded Kate. “ Here itis. The key is the letter L. The pigeon was sent off at twenty minutes to twu, and arrived here at ten minutes to three—one hour and ten minutes in all!” ‘‘ And what’s the distance, Kate ?” asked Mrs. Marshall. : ‘‘ Why, mother, by the road, Dover is seventy- two miles from London, you know,” responded the daughter; ‘‘and then allowing that Lady Bess’s cottage is five miles from London, the whole distance would be seventy-seven. But then, as the bird flies, it would not be much more than seventy, making a mile a minute, inclusive of the short stoppages at the two stations on the road.” _had decyphered the scrap of paper, and had then But of all the friends | and acquaintances of the Marshalls who were | aware of the eldest young lady’s fondness for the feathered tribe, not oneof them was ever admitted to the knowledge of the circumstance that she had a bed-chamber prettily fitted up in the highest burnt it by the flame of the candle. . “ Well, there is plenty of time to tutor your sisters and the servants what to say,” the old man immediately observed. “Some hours must elapse before she will be here, although with the relays she has ordered she will no doubt gallep While Miss Kate was thus speaking, her father - Go 0)(0)(0) eS (E(0)