The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

THE RESULTS OF THE PLOT 23 his chair back against the wall so that no one could get behind him, and then lounging in it with an easy and con- fident manner, as if he felt assured that though in the lion’s den he was perfectly safe, ‘now, my good friends,’ he repeated, ‘‘ don’t you think that all your united wisdom, — especially when combined with that of Daniel Cofhin, — should have devised some scheme more feasible and likely- looking than this clumsy affair which you have trumped up to ensnare me? ”’ ‘“ Trapped, by goles! ’’ exclaimed Bencull, his countenance becoming black as thunder. ‘Nosed upon, as sure as fate! ’’ muttered the Mushroom Faker. “ Done brown! ’’ added Bob the Durrynacker, also in an undertone. ‘Perdition seize that Nell Gibson!’’ murmured the Buttoner, between his set teeth, as he clenched his hands with convulsive violence, his mind being already intent on a horrible revenge for what he supposed to be the perfidy of his mistress. “Need I tell you what ridiculous figures you cut?”’ resumed Larry Sampson, secretly enjoying their confusion. “But I only wish that your accomplice, Nell Gibson, was here to see how completely all her artifices have been pene- trated by me. As for your friend the Hangman, I suppose he has gone up to my house in the hope of obtaining posses- sion of my secret register. He will be miserably disap- pointed,” added the officer, dryly. “You are talking the Chinese langvidge, Mr. Sampson,”’’ erowled Bencull, endeavouring to put a good face on the matter, if possible. ‘‘ We don’t understand you; there ain’t no plot, no scheme, no nothink — ”’ ‘Denial is useless, my good fellow,” interrupted the officer. ‘* You expected that I should be concealed in the gallery outside here at eleven o’clock; but instead of that, I thought it would be better to drop in as I have done, and tell you to beware in future how you plot against me. After the glimpse which the Hangman obtained of my secret book one day, he should have known that there are few things done in London which escape my knowledge; and perhaps you will be surprised when I tell you that the origin of the fire at sir Douglas Huntingdon’s house a week ago is known to me.”’ CoOnnicloooks (C(O)