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.

ward. Inever look behind the scenes, Mr. Blades —never, never. ‘The men and the women down stairs are all poor creatures who pick up little things in the gutters and on the dunghills, and bring them to me to buy!” “‘ Yes—such pretty things as watches, snuff-boxes, rings, and gold chains,” observed the Hangman, with a sarcastic lear. “They’re plentiful enough in Lon- don: itisn’t however in the gutters, on the dung- hills, and in the sewers they’re found—but in the pockets, round the necks, and on the fingers of gen- tlemen and ladies.” “ Well, well—it may be,” said old Jeremy, ina querulous voice and with nervous manner. “ But recollect this, my dear friend Mr. Blades—for good friends we shall no doubt become—recollect, I say, that I am no associate of bad characters—I have nothing to do with them. I ama man of reputa- tion—buying and selling in a legitimate manner; and if I come down occasionally to my kind friend, Mr. Bencull’s house——” “Once a week at least, old fellow,” ejaculated the Hangman. * You see how jocular he is, Mr. Blades,” said Humpage; “so full of life and spirits! Well, I look upon him as a son——” “You crafty, hypocritical, lying old vagabond,” interrupted Daniel Coffin,—“ you know you hate me as the devil does holy water. But you're obliged to keep friends with me—and so am I with you, unfortunately. IL wish, however, you would leave off this canting, droning, wheedling style of your’s, and speak out like aman. But that you'll never do. You and I have known each other a many years now—and you’ve always been the same.” “So have you, my dear Daniel,” returned Hum- page, with an air of bland ingenuousness ;—“ always the same jovial, waggish, good-natured fellow.” “ Good-natured indeed!” growled the Hangman, looking about as well pleased as an angry bull-doe. “Precious good-natured, no doubt, not to have knocked you on the head long ago.” **That would never do, my dear kind friend,” said Humpagre, with another cackling laugh, as if he thought the Hangman was only joking. “If anything happened to me, Daniel, what would you do when you found a handsome gold watch in the | street, or a splendid snuff-box lying in some deserted corner? No one would use youso well as Ido. And when, too, some nobleman or gentle- man trusted you with a plate-chest to dispose of—- or a lady gave you her diamonds to sell for her-———” “Hark at the old fool!” ejaculated Jack Ketch, in deep disgust. ‘He knows as well as possible that he never bought a watch or a snuff-box of me in all his life that wasn’t stolen—and that he never melted down a single piece of plate that wasn’t the produce of a burglary.” ** Was there ever a man so fond of a joke as my dear friend Dan Coffin ?” cried old Jeremy, chuck- ling again. “But I was going to tell you, Mr. Blades, when he interrupted me just now,” con- tinued the fence, addressing himself to the knife- grinder,—* that if I come occasionally to my old friend Bencull’s very respectable and well-con- ducted lodging-house, it is only to save such poor creatures as those down stairs the trouble of com- ing to me at my own abode in Whitechapel. I a a ————— THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 33 | Whitechapel—_—_” ee a — — look upon them all as my own children, and love then as dearly——” ** Curse this nonsense !” ejaculated the Hangman, stamping his foot upon the floor with impatience. “You're enough to drive one mad with your hypo- critical, carneying trash.” “Don’t be angry, my excellent friend—don’t be angry,’ said Humpage. “TI only wanted our new friend Mr. Blades, to know what sort of aperson I am 33 Well—and now he'll take your word for it,” in- terrupted Jack Ketch. “ Come—we’ve had enough of blarney and gammon; and therefore let’s see if we can’t talk rationally for a few minutes. In the first place, am I one too many here? Because, if so, Pll step down stairs arain—-—” “Not a bit of it—-not a bit of it,” cried old Jveremy Humpage. * Well, then—I’ll stop,” continued the Hang- man. “And now tell me, you ancient hypocrite, what you wanted to see me for, and why you was mentioning my name in such friendly terms just at the very moment that I came up ?” “The fact is,” returned Jeremy, now lowering his voice to a whisper, “ our new friend here, Mr. Tibby Blades—and a very pretty name it is, too— happened to hear my name mentioned at Miss Scratchem’s highly respectable lodging-house in 9? “Polly Scratchem’s flash crib—eh?” exclaimed the Hangman. “ Well—go on. I suppose our friend Blades,’ he added, glancing towards the knife-grinder, “heard that you was a precious old fence——” “A fair-dealing purchaser of miscellaneous goods, you mean,” said Jeremy. “And so, as our new friend Blades expects to have a few things to dispose of in the course of next week, and as he wants to leave town the first thing to-morrow morning, he thought he had better see me without delay. Is it not so, my dear Mr. Blades ?” “7That’s right enough,” answered the knife- grinder, And when [Td explained myself to you, you said that if I wanted any assistance in moving the few things I spoke of, you could re- commend me to Mr. Daniel Coffin as a indiwidual you'd knowed and esteemed for many years.” * Now I understand,” exclaimed the Hangman: then, taking Tibby Blades by the button-hole and looking him significantly in the face, he said, “Is there really anything to be done anywhere ?—and do you want a pal in the matter?” “Don’t discuss your schemes in my presence !” cried old Jeremy. “I’ve introduced you to each other—and that’s enough. Go and talk elsewhere, like dear good creatures as you are.” “Well, well—you needn’t mind us—we shan’t be many minutes,” observed the Hangman. “And I want to say something to you presently, old Jeremy —something that will make your precious tooth- less mouth water, I know.” * Always joking—always joking!” chuckled Humpage: but as the Hangman drew the knife- grinder aside into a corner, a scowl of diabolical malignity passed over the countenance of the ancient fence. “Now, my fine fellow,” whispered the Hangman to 'Tibby Blades, “ma person of few words—and I hate such wretched drivelling and loathsome nonsense as that old impostor has been indulging CoOnnicloooks (CO)