The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 400: what you’re looking at

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

quainted as any one of them with the premises, had followed them unperceived. In one hand she held the rope of the factory bell, ready, on the first ap- pearance of danger, to ring an alarm, whieh she knew would bring the overseers and packers from the factory —in the other the pistol which she had snatched from her intended assassin. Her heart turned sick as she saw the father of her boy engaged in robbing the relative whom he had too deeply injured already. “T have got it all,” whispered Faddle. “Thank God!” thought Wilmott, more intent upon his uncle than the plunder, “the.old man sleeps! Farther crime, at least, is spared me!” In this reflection he was mistaken, for in turning round ke knocked against one of the books, which, falling from the desk upon the floor, startled Mr. Briarton from his slumber. “Thieves! thieves! Help!” exclaimed the old man. Faddle’s first impulse was to shoot him, but know- ing it would alarm the house, he drew his knife, and began opening it with his teeth; just as he had ac- complished it, to his terror and confusion the factory bell sent forth a heavy peal. “ Murder! thieves!” continued the old man, spring- ing upon his nephew, who was half stupefied, and totally unprepared to meet him. Faddle’s eye glanced at the window, and caught sight of Rose, who was still pulling at the bell. “ For revenge!” he cried, as he levelled and fired, A loud shriek told that the ball had taken effect, and voices were heard both in the factory and the rooms above, Springing through the window, the murderer disappeared, leaving his companion in the hands of his uncle. When Walter Maynard, the overseers, and men entered the counting-house, they found an unresisting | maniac in the grasp of his uncle, who, as yet, had not recognised him. “Good heavens! sir, what is the matter?” “‘ Plundered — robbed!” said the old gentleman. ‘‘ But here is one of the thieves,” “ And don’t you know who it is?” demanded Pike, | addressing him. “7 ?—no,” said his master. ~ “Your own nephew—Richard Wilmott. “God!” said the unhappy Mr. Briarton, “‘ and is it come to this?—a robber! a felon! Oh, Dick! Dick!” In the confusion which ensued, it was some time before any one thought of dispatching parties to overtake the plunderer, who had thus several minutes, of which he was not slow to avail himself, to effect his escape. On reaching the factery-yard some of the men found the unhappy Rose, who had fainted from loss of blood. Her hand still grasped the rope of the bell by which she had given the alarm, Thinking she was dead, they bore her into the house. If Walter Maynard had failed to recognise Wilmott, he did not make the same error respecting his*wife. *He knew the object of his former love at a glance, faded and changed as misery and want had made her, “A sickness came over his heart—he longed to press her to it, bless and forgive her. Medical aid was instantly sent for, it being evident to all that the devoted woman had lost her life through the act which had preserved Mr. Briarton’s. In the regret and sorrow of the moment, the loss of the large sum taken by Faddle was scarcely thought of or re- ° Fs SF SS TT THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. oe — ——— As soon as the surgeon arrived and examined the wound he shook his head, “Ts there no hope?” demanded Walter. “None; the ball has traversed the lungs; in a few hours all will be over.” ’ Without a word her former lover raised the insen- sible Rose in his arms and bore her to a ehamber. Then placing her upon a bed, he left her while the surgeon dressed her wound and administered some restorative medicines. From the chamber of Rose he passed to that of his wife. Some women, in Ellen’s place, would have pouted and been dissatisfied at the attention lavished upon one who had deprived her of the lover of her youth, and retained, perhaps, no inconsiderable hold ever the heart of her husband; but Mrs. Maynard was no common-minded persen; she remembered that to the devotion of the dying Rose she was indebted for the life of her father, and perhaps for Walter’s. Meeting him, therefore, with a tearful smile, she extended her hand to him, exclaiming: “You have acted rightly, very rightly, Walter Can wedo nothing for her?” | That one noble act won hor the affection of her hus- band more firmly than ever. “Nothing,” he sighed; “‘ there is no hope she is dying.” | When Walter entered the room ues the dying | woman was waiting to receive him, he found her calm and collected—without one regret for herself, A faint smileeven played upon her thin lips as she beheld the only man she had ever really loved, over- | whelmed with grief, approach her couch of suffering. | “His rich wife,” she thought, “has not all his heart; the wretched Rose is remembered still!” and there was consolation in the theught. “ Walter!” she faltered, “my boy! my son!” H “Shall be to me as my own, dear Rose. Where i e?” She murmured the name of the street in which the wretched den was situated where she had left him, and Pike, with a couple of policemen, was immedi- ately dispatched to bring him to her “JT shall die in peace,” she murmured, “ if I leave him in yourcare. Ob, Walter! a life of misery and a Rose. Your curse has reached me.” “Forget it’ sobbed Walter, overcome with his| — “it is recalled—has been long since. grief ; I should most have trusted.” “No, no! the fault has been my own—all my own!’’ | attempt?” demanded Mr. Briarton, as he entered the apartment. “The man who, through life, has been his rain, | his destroyer, and my murderer.” ‘* Paddle?” “ Even that villain.’’ The old a left the room to give directions : 7 The loss of the money, alshongy | negotiate them. ) “ Walter,” said Rose, “it is sweet to die thus, I have suffered much, and Heaven is so merciful, I feel almost assured it will at last forgive me. Could I but once more embrace my poor, neglected boy——”’ FOMmMicbook broken heart have well avenged you on the perjured i what portion of the fault was mine! I doubted when {| “ Who was my nephew’s companion in his vile | .. | more than half of the sum was in bills which could} bestopped at the bank, should the robber attempt'to; — “com