The String of Pearls; or, The Barber of Fleet Street — page 274: what you’re looking at

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

266 VHE SPRING OF PEARLS. a ESS: diited themselves 5 yet “with some one to take my place, so I am not to be sent to see my old friends. Oh, bitter—bitter fate. 1 would that I were dead !” There was a heartiness in the pronunciation of the last word, that quite, con- vinced Sir Richard Blunt of their sincerity ;. buf yet he thought he ought to listen to a little more before be ran the risk of falling into any trap that might be laid for him by Mrs. Lovett or her satellites, ifshe had any, He had not to wait long, for whoever it was that was speaking had got into a good train of groaning, and did not seem inclined to leave off for some time. “Ts shea woman, or the devil in petticoats ?’’ said the voice. « Humph!” thought Sir Richard Blunt, “‘ that would be rather a hard question to answer upon oath.” ‘‘ How much longeram I to bear this load of misery ?”’ continued the voice, “No sleej:—no food, but just what will sustain nature in her continued suffer- ings. Oh, it is most horrible. Have I been preserved from death under man adventurous and fearful circumstances, at last to die here like a rat in a hole ?” ‘* What on earth can be the matter with thisman?” thought Sir Richard. _ There was a pause in the lamentations of the man now for a few seconds, during which he only groaned once or twice, just as if by way of letting any one know, who might be listening, that he was not pacified. At length, with a | sudden burst of passion, he cried— “I can bear itno longer. Death of my own seeking, and by my own choice as to method, is far preferable to this state of existence. Farewell, all—farewell to you, fairand gentle girl, whom I loved and whose falseness first gave mea pang such as the assassin’s dagger could not have inflicted, Farewell, dear companions of my youth, wh«m I had hoped to see again !” “‘Stop !” said Sir Richard Blunt, The captive cook was still. “Stop!” cried Sir Richard Blunt agam. ** Good God! whois that?” sai‘! the voice from the region of the oven. “ Your good genius, if 1 save youfrom doing anything rash; who and what are you? Tell me all.” “To be betrayed. Ah, you aresome spy of Mrs. Lovett’s of course, and you only wish to draw me into conversation for my destruction.” «‘ What were you going to do just now ?” “<'Fake my own life.” ** Well, if you find [ am an enemy instead of a friend, as I profess to be, you can but carry out your intention.” “That's true.” | The captive cook pronounced these two words in such a solemn tone, that the magistrate was more than ever convinced ofhis sincerity, and that he was far more a victim of Mrs. Lovett and her associate, the barber, than an accomplice. “Speak freely,’’ said Sir Richard. ‘* Who and what are you?” | ““] am the most unhappy wretch that ever breathed. 1 am cribbed and cabined and confined, | live upon raw flour and water. I curse the hour that I was born, and wish | had been a blind kitten and drowned, rather than what I am.” ** But what do you do here E «« Make numberless pies.” “Well ?” “< It’s all very fine for you to say well, whoever you are, but it is anything but well with me. Where are you?” ‘* Upon the staircase, near an iron door.” «Ah, you are at the aperture through which that abominable Mrs. Lovett issues to me her commands and her threats. If you have any compassion in your nature, and the smallest desire to hear a story that will curdle your blood, you will find out the means of opening that door, and then I will climb up to it and make one effort for freedom.” «My good friend, 1 am very much afraid it would materially derange my plans to do 50.” comicbooks.com ccipiaiaiimsiestoas t { See, — >, =