The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 288: what you’re looking at

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

986 MYSTHRIES less. But the cord vibrated for some time, and the body of Ishmael swung slowly round and round. I shut my eyes, Brian; my legs sank under me, I felt, as it were, an icy hand press. . ing around my heart; and then I saw—lI felt nothing further. Susannah then paused. Brian, paraplerete hor- rified by the recital of this horrible scene, re-. mained silent. . In the dark cabinet, the little Frenchwoman was trembling from head to foot, muttering ex- clamations of terror. Tyrrel himself appeared moved to an extraordinary degree, and at one moment, when he was trembling and staggering as though about to fall, Maudlin felt a drop of perspiration, cold as ice, fall upon her hand from the forehead of the blind man. When I had recovered my senses, Brian, the sun was above St, Paul's; the funeral decora- tions had completely disappeared.- The crowd had dispersed, and the market carts were going up and down, as usual, the melancholy neighbours hood of the Old Bailey, I awoke, because a po- liceman observed that I was encumbering the public path, and rudely shook me. I mechanically walkeddown Fieet-street, think- ing, no doubt, of you. At the corner of Cornhill, aman came up to me; he told me that 1 was handsome, and asked meifl would follow him to his house; I aceepted without hesitating, and did not even attempt to conceal the joy I felt. But as we walked on together, he spoke to me in such terms, that I was obliged to leave him. There was something within me, Brian, which com- * comicbooks.com