The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 215: what you’re looking at

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

OF LONDON. 213 While Mrs. Gruff was still speaking, the street door was suddenly cpened, and a man, carefully - wrapped up in a Scotch plaid, entered the parlour of the public house. As soon as he got into the room, he threw back the chequered folds of his tartan. Mrs, Gruff did not conclude the sentence she had begun. She fell, as if thunderstruck, upon the bench which was opposite to the one on which her husband was sitting. The laird! muttered she to herseif, in great terror; it is the devil, surely who has brought him here at this moment. CHAPTER II, THe man who had entered the parlour cf the King George’s Head, might have been about fifty years of age, but appeared much older. When he took off the plaid-cloak which was thrown over his shoulders, and had partly concealed his features, he discovered a face which had origin- ally been fresh coloured, but which years of tor~ ture had rendered aad The man who had entered the house was, in ree reality, the Laird Angus Macfarlane of Crewe te Castle. The arrival of the laird at euch a moment was a real thunder-clap to the worthy couple. Mrs, Gruff, 2s we have before said, fell upon a bench, | while her husband opened his large unmeaning eyes, and twisted his red whiskers with both hands, comicbooks.com, - eT See cite