The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 382: what you’re looking at

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

A DEED OF VENGEANCE dol “TI do,’ was the response, delivered with a kindred acerbity of feeling and rancorous vibration of voice. “ The child of that surgeon shall be reared as a beggar — trained to become a thief — ” ‘“ Until the age of ten or twelve, according as he is more or less imbued with the inveteracy of evil principles,” added Melmoth; ‘“‘ and then, James, then shall you reveal to him the astounding secret that he is the son of Thurston the eminent doctor of Mayfair! ”’ ‘And, on learning that secret, he can go home to his parents if he chooses,”’ said the boy, with a malignant laugh. ‘‘ But those pistols, father, are they — ” ‘“‘ For the prince? ”’ exclaimed Melmoth, finishing the lad’s sentence for him. “ Yes, one is for the prince, the author of all our woes — ”’ “And the other? ” said the boy, gazing intently up into his father’s haggard, sallow countenance. “The other? ”’ echoed Melmoth, in a musing tone; then, suddenly fixing his eyes with a fearful expression upon his son, he said, “‘ James, you will soon be compelled to act as a father toward your little brother and sister, who will have no other father to depend upon! ”’ “No, no, you must not leave us in this manner!”’ exclaimed the youth, in a burst of wild anguish, as he caught hold of his father’s hand; and he would have fallen at his feet, had not the iron grasp of Melmoth suddenly clutched his wrists and held him up. ‘Boy, you must show more nerve than this,”’ ejaculated the monster-man, in a stern tone and with a look of menacing reproach. ‘‘ The time for child’s play is passed, the season for indulging in soft emotions 1s over. We have a terrible duty to perform, a frightful vengeance to wreak, and we must not shrink from the task. Tell me, James, do you shrink? ”’ and Melmoth grasped his son’s arm with the force of an iron vise closing upon it. ‘““No, no, I do not shrink, father,’’ exclaimed the youth. ““'The remembrance of my poor mother, how she wept over me, how she died in my presence, and the recollection of your manifold wrongs also, — oh, all this inspires me with the courage of desperation and the spirit of a demon, and you shall behold no more weakness on my part! ”’ *“‘ Bravely spoken! ”’ cried Melmoth, now pressing his son’s COniuicloookks (C@)