The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 274: what you’re looking at

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

279 MYSTERIES He drew near to Rehoboam, and piaced upon the table the paper which he held in his hand.— Here, said he, take this, and trace mé out this signature. We will make use of it, should an opportunity present itself, and his highness will not be the richer forit. Take care not to spoil the note, Master Silence. If there is a single mark upon it, I will break your head at one blow. Rehoboam took the paper, whith was a note of the Prince Demetrius Tolstoy, for the price sti- pulated between him and Ishmael, and began to imitate the signature. My father walked up and down, soliloguising. How much have you done, Master Silence ? said he, suddenly addressing Rehobcam. I! felt the chair of the unfortunate man trembling against me, and I felt afraid, because I was con- vinced he had made some mistake. My father took the paper, which Rehoboam hesitated to re- turn to him, and instantly a cry of rage escaped him. You villain! he exclaimed, you miserable brute! Did I not tell you to be careful? Ah, this time, I will make you pay for ail! _ The poor dumb man seemed paralysed with fear; he could not even tremble. The drops of coid perspiration which fell down from both his temples were the only signs he gave of life. My father, after pausing some seconds before his vic- _ tim—as though he would havetorn him piecemeal with his own hands—on a sudden sprung to the place where hung his weapons, and selected the heaviest of the (so called) life preservers. When Ishmael struck his first blow, [felt Rehoboam’s chair jump, as it were, from the floor, I not only pou Rom eor