The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

THE MURDER dod ‘You lie!’ thundered the Hangman. ‘ We are certain that you have betrayed us. Who else could have done it? Besides, we know more of your nasty sneaking tricks than you fancy.”’ ‘“‘ Yes, look here,’’ suddenly cried the Buttoner, producing Nell Gibson’s own letter to Sir Douglas Huntingdon, — that letter which she had penned at Meg Blowen’s, and which her paramour had subsequently obtained from the boy to whom she had entrusted it for delivery. ‘““ Ah! ”’ she ejaculated, becoming pale as death, for she saw that her doom was inevitable; and now, though she tried to speak, the words stuck in her throat, and terror subdued all further power of utterance. ‘‘ You see she’s guilty — there’s no doubt of it! ’’ said the Hangman; and suddenly flinging off his coat, he actually tucked up his shirt-sleeves in order more effectually to do the work of death. At the same instant Bencull threw a silk handkerchief around Nell Gibson’s neck, and placing his hand forcibly over her mouth, he prevented her from screaming. The other rufhans, not even excepting the Buttoner, now flew upon her like so many wild beasts upon their prey, and while some held her hands and feet, the others tugged hard at the handkerchief in order to strangle her. She struggled des- perately, though in the iron grasp of those strong men. Her cloak and bonnet were torn off, and her hair streamed down in wild disorder. Hard, hard did she fight against death; fearful was the convulsive tenacity with which the unfortunate girl clung to life. But gradually those strong spasmodic struggles grew weaker and weaker, and in a few more instants all was over. The villains might have despatched her more speedily by the pistol, the knife, or the bludgeon, but they were afraid of exciting the attention of the neighbours by the report of firearms, and they were equally careful of spilling blood, which would leave its traces upon the floor, — inas- much as the attention of Mr. Lawrence Sampson had now evidently become fixed upon the dark crib. But the work of murder was effectually done by means of strangulation; and when the appalling deed was accom- plished the Buttoner suddenly burst into tears and cried like a child. CoOnniclooolks (C(O)