The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 354: what you’re looking at

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

852 bh! unce madv tifieen, but that was a remarkable affair. Second-floor six, and the leads of the douse, wuich would accommodate about fifty comfortably, as she remarked, five shillings eacb. She had s0 long heen accustomed to make a market of her house on these occasions, that all idea of the nature of the spectacle, its herror and solemnity, were quite lost upon her. The more atrocious the criminal, the greater the star. Tickets were at a premium. The Sd lady was remarkably neat in her person, and, THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, robes of the judge vive him @ privilege ub.ve bu- maaity that he sheuld destroy i:? Hombuag!” At this moment there was a silence in the street ; the murmar of the voices bsneath them had ceased, like the subsiding waves of the sea, when the breath of the tempest has ceased to agitatethem, Wilmott felt that the victim was upon the scaffuld. He dared not look, “ Try a cigar,” said bis eompanion. “No, no!” gasped the uahappy man, starting frem strange to say, had a marked expression ef benevo- | his chair; “let me go! let me gol” lence in her countenance. “Walk in, gentlemen,” she exclaimed, dropping the chain after she had reconnoitred Faddle and Wilmott through the half-open door. “ A. sweet mornivg for the execution. How very fortunate! Would you like any breakfast? I have excellent c fF e—all ready.” “No,” said Faddle, rather sharply, for he was anxious to get Wilmott out of her sight, for fear in his terror he should let fall something awkward. * Perhaps when it’s all over then; the rolls will be ready by that time. Straight on, gentlemen; you koow your way. I can’t leave the door; there’s no trusting any one on an occasion like this.” As they mourted the gloomy staircase, they heard her say “ five shillings” in answer to an application made by a respectable mechanic for a seat on the roof of the house. “I never take less, young man.” The price of the ticket was given, for they heard his step upon the stairs mounting after them. Faddle’s first care on entering the room was to lock the doer, in order to keep out all intruders; his next to places a chair as far from it as possible, in order that no imprudent word or exclamation of remorse might reach the ear of any listener; not that there were likely to bs such—all were too much interested in the spectacle about to pass before their eyes. “Why have you brought me here?” faintly de- manded the repentant man, _ “ To string your nerves and cure you of your folly. I never yet knew a danger, physical or: mental, that was not lessened by being confronted boldly, Had you only heard of Hawk’s execution, it would have haunted you for ever; seeing it, you may forget it.”’ “ Impossible,” “How is it, then,” demanded Faddle, “that you think more of him than of the man we murdered? Can your philosephy explain that ?”’ * Because it is not yet too late to save him, Had the struggle been life for life, I should not so much have minded it—for he had robbed me; but to see him led like a beast to the shambles, and know that he is innocent, that he is suffering for my crime, is too horrible. Can the murderer kn »w peace?” “Oh dear, yes. There is a fellow—move your ehair nearer to the window—who has, in his time, taken a hundred lives; and yet I dare bet a fifty that he sleeps as weil after each fresh murder as though he had said his prayers only and performed some good action.” “What mean you?” demanded Wilmott, whose eyes were fixed upon the crowd beneath. “ There, look upor the gallows!” “The executioner!” said his companion, averting, his eyes in disgust, as he saw the fellow busy in making some preliminary arrangement, “ And what is he but a murderer? Are you such @ fool as to think that, because twelve men pronounce a thing correct, that it isso; or that the wig and ermine “ Where? to take his place?” “God help me—God help me!” said Wilmott, and resumed his seat. “How devilish pale he looks!” coolly continued Faddle, at the same time eyeing Hawk through his glass as he appeared upon the scaffold; “ the fellow has no more pluck than a pigeon.”’ While Caleraft was adjusting the rope ‘round the neck of the uahappy man, the only indication of ex- citement on the part of his quondam friend was the increased vehemenee with which he puffed his cigar; but whether it rose from pleasure or remorse, gra vengeance or a mere human feeling, he was such an odd compound it was impossible to guess. “There ” he said, turning to his friend, ‘‘the fellow’s face is turned towards you; look upon him now. That white cap is the curtain which ends the drama of his existence. And now, the executioner retires.” Stung, maddened by terror, Wilmott rushed to the window and gazed upon the spectacle with starting eyes. His companion had said truly, when he eb- served that the horror of the reality was inferior to | tbe horror of his imagination; fer when the drop fell and the lifting of the shoulders and the heaving of the ehest were over, the wretched man felt as if a | weight had been removed from his heart. Half | fainting and sick, he staggered into fhe centre ¢ the room, and fall into a chair, ~ “Allright!” said Faddle. “ We are safe now.” He dreamt not, in the triumph ef his fancied se~ curity; that the slow foot of Time and the hand of | Justice would one day terribly avenge the death of his | victim; who, whatever his crimes, was at least in- | nocent of the one for which he died, In about ten | minutes there was a gentle tap at the door, and the old woman whispered : “ Coffee is quite ready.” : “Damn your coffee!” muttered the heartless ruffian to himself; then aloud—* Presently, my good » woman, presently.” “ Any rolls?” “Yes—any thing—what you will.” | Her steps were heard receding from the door, and Faddle immediately occupied himself with recovering his companion. Taking a flask of brandy from his pocket, he applied a portion of its contents to hi forehead, and poured a few drops down his throat. Wilmott stared for some moments wildly round pe! room on recovering his recollection, and bursting a last into a flood of tears, demanded of his friend what had passed, q “Ts it reality or a dream ?” He had lately t haunted by such. “A reality; and a fortunate one for us,” * Fortunate !” “Ay—it brings security. Come, be & There, pour a little more courage into that era heart of thine, and meet the world with a bold g face. We may sleep in peace, calmly, now.” “ Never—not even in the grave,” GOMGE i SO lie eee on boo “S Com |