Pelham — Complete

by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton

  CHAPTER LXXXIII.

  'Tis true that we are in great danger; The greater, therefore, shouldour courage be.--Shakspeare.

  We proceeded a short way, when we were stopped by a door; this Jobopened, and a narrow staircase, lighted from above, by a dim lamp, wasbefore us. We ascended, and found ourselves in a sort of gallery; herehung another lamp, beneath which Job opened a closet.

  "This is the place where Bess generally leaves the keys," said he, "weshall find them here, I hope."

  So saying, Master Job entered, leaving me in the passage, but soonreturned with a disappointed air.

  "The old harridan has left them below," said he, "I must go down forthem; your honour will wait here till I return."

  Suiting the action to the word, honest Job immediately descended,leaving me alone with my own reflections. Just opposite to the closetwas the door of some apartment; I leant accidentally against it; it wasonly a-jar, and gave way; the ordinary consequence in such accidents, isa certain precipitation from the centre of gravity. I am not exempt fromthe general lot; and accordingly entered the room in a manner entirelycontrary to that which my natural inclination would have prompted me toadopt. My ear was accosted by a faint voice, which proceeded from a bedat the opposite corner; it asked, in the thieves' dialect, and in thefeeble accents of bodily weakness, who was there? I did not judge itnecessary to make any reply, but was withdrawing as gently as possible,when my eye rested upon a table at the foot of the bed, upon which,among two or three miscellaneous articles, were deposited a brace ofpistols, and one of those admirable swords, made according to the modernmilitary regulation, for the united purpose of cut and thrust. The lightwhich enabled me to discover the contents of the room, proceeded froma rush-light placed in the grate; this general symptom of avaletudinarian, together with some other little odd matters (combinedwith the weak voice of the speaker), impressed me with the idea ofhaving intruded into the chamber of some sick member of the crew.Emboldened by this notion, and by perceiving that the curtains weredrawn closely around the bed, so that the inmate could have opticaldiscernment of nothing that occurred without, I could not resist takingtwo soft steps to the table, and quietly removing a weapon whose brightface seemed to invite me as a long known and long tried friend.

  This was not, however, done in so noiseless a manner, but what the voiceagain addressed me, in a somewhat louder key, by the appellation of"Brimstone Bess," asking, with sundry oaths, "What was the matter?" andrequesting something to drink. I need scarcely say that, as before, Imade no reply, but crept out of the room as gently as possible, blessingmy good fortune for having thrown into my way a weapon with the use ofwhich, above all others, I was best acquainted. Scarcely had I regainedthe passage, before Jonson re-appeared with the keys; I showed him mytreasure (for indeed it was of no size to conceal).

  "Are you mad, Sir?" said he, "or do you think that the best way to avoidsuspicion, is to walk about with a drawn sword in your hand? I wouldnot have Bess see you for the best diamond I ever borrowed." With thesewords Job took the sword from my reluctant hand.

  "Where did you get it?" said he.

  I explained in a whisper, and Job, re-opening the door I had sounceremoniously entered, laid the weapon softly on a chair that stoodwithin reach. The sick man, whose senses were of course rendered doublyacute by illness, once more demanded in a fretful tone, who was there?And Job replied, in the flash language, that Bess had sent him up tolook for her keys, which she imagined she had left there. The invalidrejoined, by a request to Jonson to reach him a draught, and we had toundergo a farther delay, until his petition was complied with; we thenproceeded up the passage, till we came to another flight of steps,which led to a door: Job opened it, and we entered a room of no commondimensions.

  "This," said he, "is Bess Brimstone's sleeping apartment; whoevergoes into the passage that leads not only to Dawson's room, but tothe several other chambers occupied by such of the gang as requireparticular care, must pass first through this room. You see that bellby the bedside--I assure you it is no ordinary tintannabulum; itcommunicates with every sleeping apartment in the house, and is onlyrung in cases of great alarm, when every boy must look well to himself;there are two more of this description, one in the room which we havejust left, another in the one occupied by Spider-shanks, who is ourwatch-dog, and keeps his kennel below. Those steps in the common room,which seem to lead to a cellar, conduct to his den. As we shall haveto come back through this room, you see the difficulty of smugglingDawson--and if the old dame rung the alarm, the whole hive would be outin a moment."

  After this speech, Job left the room, by opening a door at the oppositeend, which shewed us a passage, similar in extent and fashion, to theone we had left below; at the very extremity of this was the entrance toan apartment at which Jonson stopped.

  "Here," said he, taking from his pocket a small paper book, and anink-horn; "here, your honour, take these, you may want to note the headsof Dawson's confession, we are now at his door." Job then applied one ofthe keys of a tolerably sized bunch to the door, and the next moment wewere in Dawson's apartment.

  The room which, though low and narrow, was of considerable length, wasin utter darkness, and the dim and flickering light Jonson held, onlystruggled with, rather than penetrated the thick gloom. About the centreof the room stood the bed, and sitting upright on it, with a wan andhollow countenance, bent eagerly towards us, was a meagre, attenuatedfigure. My recollection of Dawson, whom, it will be remembered, I hadonly seen once before, was extremely faint, but it had impressed mewith the idea of a middle sized and rather athletic man, with a fair andflorid complexion: the creature I now saw, was totally the reverseof this idea. His cheeks were yellow and drawn in; his hand which wasraised, in the act of holding aside the curtains, was like the talonsof a famished vulture, so thin, so long, so withered in its hue andtexture.

  No sooner did the advancing light allow him to see us distinctly, thanhe half sprung from the bed, and cried, in that peculiar tone ofjoy, which seems to throw off from the breast a suffocating weight ofprevious terror and suspense, "Thank God, thank God! it is you at last;and you have brought the clergyman--God bless you, Jonson, you are atrue friend to me."

  "Cheer up, Dawson," said Job; "I have smuggled in this worthy gentleman,who, I have no doubt, will be of great comfort to you--but you must beopen with him, and tell all."

  "That I will--that I will," cried Dawson, with a wild and vindictiveexpression of countenance--"if it be only to hang him. Here, Jonson,give me your hand, bring the light nearer--I say--he, the devil--thefiend--has been here to-day, and threatened to murder me; and I havelistened, and listened, all night, and thought I heard his step alongthe passage, and up the stairs, and at the door; but it was nothing,Job, nothing--and you are come at last, good, kind, worthy Job. Oh! 'tisso horrible to be left in the dark, and not sleep--and in this large,large room, which looks like eternity at night--and one does fancy suchsights, Job--such horrid, horrid sights. Feel my wristband, Jonson, andhere at my back, you would think they had been pouring water over me,but its only the cold sweat. Oh! it is a fearful thing to have a badconscience, Job; but you won't leave me till daylight, now, that's adear, good Job!"

  "For shame, Dawson," said Jonson; "pluck up, and be a man; you are likea baby frightened by its nurse. Here's the clergyman come to heal yourpoor wounded conscience, will you hear him now?"

  "Yes," said Dawson; "yes!--but go out of the room--I can't tell all ifyou're here; go, Job, go!--but you're not angry with me--I don't mean tooffend you."

  "Angry!" said Job; "Lord help the poor fellow! no, to be sure not. I'llstay outside the door till you've done with the clergyman--but makehaste, for the night's almost over, and it's as much as the parson'slife is worth to stay here after daybreak."

  "I will make haste," said the guilty man, tremulously; "but, Job, whereare you going--what are you doing? leave the light!--here, Job, by thebed-side."

  Job did as he was desired, and quitted the room, leaving the doo
r not sofirmly shut, but that he might hear, if the penitent spoke aloud, everyparticular of his confession.

  I seated myself on the side of the bed, and taking the skeleton handof the unhappy man, spoke to him in the most consolatory and comfortingwords I could summon to my assistance. He seemed greatly soothed by myefforts, and at last implored me to let him join me in prayer. I kneltdown, and my lips readily found words for that language, which, whateverbe the formula of our faith, seems, in all emotions which come home toour hearts, the most natural method of expressing them. It is here, bythe bed of sickness, or remorse, that the ministers of God have theirreal power! it is here, that their office is indeed a divine andunearthly mission; and that in breathing balm and comfort, in healingthe broken heart, in raising the crushed and degraded spirit--they arethe voice, and oracle of the FATHER, who made us in benevolence, andwill judge of us in mercy! I rose, and after a short pause, Dawson, whoexpressed himself impatient of the comfort of confession, thus began--

  "I have no time, Sir, to speak of the earlier part of my life. I passedit upon the race-course, and at the gaming-table--all that was, I know,very wrong, and wicked; but I was a wild, idle boy, and eager for anything like enterprise or mischief. Well, Sir, it is now more than threeyears ago since I first met one Tom Thornton; it was at a boxing match.Tom was chosen chairman, at a sort of club of the farmers and yeomen;and being a lively, amusing fellow, and accustomed to the company ofgentlemen, was a great favourite with all of us. He was very civil tome, and I was quite pleased with his notice. I did not, however, seemuch of him then, nor for more than two years afterwards; but somemonths ago we met again. I was in very poor circumstances, so was he,and this made us closer friends than we might otherwise have been. Helived a great deal at the gambling-houses, and fancied he had discovereda certain method of winning [Note: A very common delusion, both amongsharpers and their prey.] at hazard. So, whenever he could not find agentleman whom he could cheat with false dice, tricks at cards, hewould go into any hell to try his infallible game. I did not, however,perceive, that he made a good livelihood by it; and though sometimes,either by that method or some other, he had large sums of money in hispossession, yet they were spent as soon as acquired. The fact was, thathe was not a man who could ever grow rich; he was extremely extravagantin all things--loved women and drinking, and was always striving to getinto the society of people above him. In order to do this, he affectedgreat carelessness of money; and if, at a race or a cock-fight, any realgentlemen would go home with him, he would insist upon treating them tothe very best of every thing.

  "Thus, Sir, he was always poor, and at his wit's end, for means tosupply his extravagance. He introduced me to three or four gentlemen, ashe called them, but whom I have since found to be markers, sharpers,and black-legs; and this set soon dissipated the little honesty my ownhabits of life had left me. They never spoke of things by their rightnames; and, therefore, those things never seemed so bad as they reallywere--to swindle a gentleman, did not sound a crime, when it was called'macing a swell'--nor transportation a punishment, when it was termed,with a laugh, 'lagging a cove.' Thus, insensibly, my ideas of rightand wrong, always obscure, became perfectly confused: and the habit oftreating all crimes as subjects of jest in familiar conversation, soonmade me regard them as matters of very trifling importance.

  "Well, Sir, at Newmarket races, this Spring meeting, Thornton and I wereon the look out. He had come down to stay, during the races, at a houseI had just inherited from my father, but which was rather an expenseto me than an advantage; especially as my wife, who was an innkeeper'sdaughter, was very careless and extravagant. It so happened that we wereboth taken in by a jockey, whom we had bribed very largely, and werelosers to a very considerable amount. Among other people, I lost to aSir John Tyrrell. I expressed my vexation to Thornton, who told me notto mind it, but to tell Sir John that I would pay him if he came to thetown; and that he was quite sure we could win enough, by his certaingame at hazard, to pay off my debt. He was so very urgent, that Iallowed myself to be persuaded; though Thornton has since told me, thathis only motive was, to prevent Sir John's going to the Marquess ofChester's (where he was invited) with my lord's party; and so, to havean opportunity of accomplishing the crime he then meditated.

  "Accordingly, as Thornton desired, I asked Sir John Tyrrell to come withme to Newmarket. He did so. I left him, joined Thornton, and went to thegambling-house. Here we were engaged in Thornton's sure game, when SirJohn entered. I went up and apologized for not paying, and said I wouldpay him in three months. However, Sir John was very angry, and treatedme with such rudeness, that the whole table remarked it. When hewas gone, I told Thornton how hurt and indignant I was at SirJohn's treatment. He incensed me still more--exaggerated Sir John'sconduct--said that I had suffered the grossest insult, and, at last, putme into such a passion, that I said, that if I was a gentleman, I wouldfight Sir John Tyrrell across a table.

  "When Thornton saw I was so moved, he took me out of the room, andcarried me to an inn. Here he ordered dinner, and several bottles ofwine. I never could bear much drink: he knew this, and artfully plied mewith wine till I scarcely knew what I did or said. He then talkedmuch of our destitute situation--affected to put himself out of thequestion--said he was a single man, and could easily make shift upon apotatoe--but that I was encumbered with a wife and child, whom I couldnot suffer to starve. He then said, that Sir John Tyrrell had publiclydisgraced me--that I should be blown upon the course--that no gentlemanwould bet with me again, and a great deal more of the same sort. Seeingwhat an effect he had produced upon me, he then told me that he hadseen Sir John receive a large sum of money, that would more than pay ourdebts, and set us up like gentlemen: and, at last, he proposed to meto rob him. Intoxicated as I was, I was somewhat startled at thisproposition. However, the slang terms in which Thornton disguised thegreatness and danger of the offence, very much diminished both in myeyes--so at length I consented.

  "We went to Sir John's inn, and learnt that he had just set out;accordingly, we mounted our horses, and rode after him. The night hadalready closed in. After we had got some distance from the main road,into a lane, which led both to my house and to Chester Park--for theformer was on the direct way to my lord's--we passed a man on horseback.I only observed that he was wrapped in a cloak--but Thornton said,directly we had passed him, 'I know that man well--he has been followingTyrrell all day--and though he attempts to screen himself, I havepenetrated his disguise; he is Tyrrell's mortal enemy.'"

  "'Should the worst come to the worst,' added Thornton, (words which Idid not at that moment understand) 'we can make him bear the blame.'"

  "When we had got some way further, we came up to Tyrrell and agentleman, whom, to our great dismay, we found that Sir John hadjoined--the gentleman's horse had met with an accident, and Thorntondismounted to offer his assistance. He assured the gentleman, who provedafterwards to be a Mr. Pelham, that the horse was quite lame, and thathe would scarcely be able to get it home; and he then proposed to SirJohn to accompany us, and said that we would put him in the right road;this offer Sir John rejected very haughtily, and we rode on.

  "'It's all up with us,' said I; 'since he has joined another person.'

  "'Not at all,' replied Thornton; 'for I managed to give the horse a slypoke with my knife; and if I know any thing of Sir John Tyrrell, heis much too impatient a spark to crawl along, a snail's pace, with anycompanion, especially with this heavy shower coming on.'

  "'But,' said I, for I now began to recover from my intoxication, andto be sensible of the nature of our undertaking, 'the moon is up, andunless this shower conceals it, Sir John will recognize us; so you see,even if he leaves the gentleman, it will be no use, and we had muchbetter make haste home and go to bed.'

  "Upon this, Thornton cursed me for a faint-hearted fellow, and said thatthe cloud would effectually hide the moon--or, if not--he added--'I knowhow to silence a prating tongue.' At these words I was greatly alarmed,and said, that if he meditated murder as
well as robbery, I would havenothing further to do with it. Thornton laughed, and told me not to bea fool. While we were thus debating, a heavy shower came on; we rodehastily to a large tree, by the side of a pond--which, though bare andwithered, was the nearest shelter the country afforded, and was onlya very short distance from my house. I wished to go home--but Thorntonwould not let me, and as I was always in the habit of yielding, I stoodwith him, though very reluctantly, under the tree.

  "Presently, we heard the trampling of a horse.

  "'It is he--it is he,' cried Thornton, with a savage tone ofexultation--'and alone!--Be ready--we must make a rush--I will be theone to bid him to deliver--you hold your tongue.

  "The clouds and rain had so overcast the night, that, although itwas not perfectly dark, it was sufficiently obscure to screen ourcountenances. Just as Tyrrell approached, Thornton dashed forward, andcried, in a feigned voice--'Stand, on your peril!' I followed, and wewere now both by Sir John's side.

  "He attempted to push by us--but Thornton seized him by the arm--therewas a stout struggle, in which, as yet, I had no share--at last, Tyrrellgot loose from Thornton, and I seized him--he set spurs to his horse,which was a very spirited and strong animal--it reared upwards, and verynearly brought me and my horse to the ground--at that instant, Thorntonstruck the unfortunate man a violent blow across the head with the buttend of his heavy whip--Sir John's hat had fallen before in the struggle,and the blow was so stunning that it felled him upon the spot. Thorntondismounted, and made me do the same--'There is no time to lose,' saidhe; 'let us drag him from the roadside and rifle him.' We accordinglycarried him (he was still senseless) to the side of the pond beforementioned--while we were searching for the money Thornton spoke of, thestorm ceased, and the moon broke out--we were detained some moments bythe accident of Tyrrell's having transferred his pocket-book from thepocket Thornton had seen him put it in on the race ground to an innerone.

  "We had just discovered, and seized the pocket-book, when Sir John awokefrom his swoon, and his eyes opened upon Thornton, who was still bendingover him, and looking at the contents of the book to see that all wasright; the moonlight left Tyrrell in no doubt as to our persons; andstruggling hard to get up, he cried, 'I know you! I know you! you shallhang for this.' No sooner had he uttered this imprudence, than it wasall over with him. 'We will see that, Sir John,' said Thornton,setting his knee upon Tyrrell's chest, and nailing him down. While thusemployed, he told me to feel in his coat-pocket for a case-knife.

  "'For God's sake!' cried Tyrrell, with a tone of agonizing terror whichhaunts me still, 'spare my life!'

  "'It is too late,' said Thornton, deliberately, and taking the knifefrom my hands, he plunged it into Sir John's side, and as the blade wastoo short to reach the vitals, Thornton drew it backwards and forwardsto widen the wound. Tyrrell was a strong man, and still continued tostruggle and call out for mercy--Thornton drew out the knife--Tyrrellseized it by the blade, and his fingers were cut through before Thorntoncould snatch it from his grasp; the wretched gentleman then saw all hopewas over; he uttered one loud, sharp, cry of despair. Thornton put onehand to his mouth, and with the other gashed his throat from ear to ear.

  "'You have done for him, and for us now,' said I, as Thornton slowlyrose from the body. 'No,' replied he, 'look, he still moves;' and sureenough he did, but it was in the last agony. However, Thornton, to makeall sure, plunged the knife again into his body; the blade came intocontact with a bone, and snapped in two; so great was the violence ofthe blow, that instead of remaining in the flesh, the broken piece fellupon the ground among the long fern and grass.

  "While we were employed in searching for it: Thornton, whose ears weremuch sharper than mine, caught the sound of a horse. 'Mount! mount,' hecried; 'and let us be off.' We sprung up on our horses, and rode awayas fast as we could. I wished to go home, as it was so near at hand; butThornton insisted on making to an old shed, about a quarter of a mileacross the fields; thither, therefore, we went."

  "Stop," said I, "what did Thornton do with the remaining part of thecase-knife? did he throw it away, or carry it with him?"

  "He took it with him," answered Dawson, "for his name was engraved on asilver plate, on the handle; and, he was therefore afraid of throwing itinto the pond, as I advised, lest at any time it should be discovered.Close by the shed, there is a plantation of young firs of some extent.Thornton and I entered, and he dug a hole with the broken blade of theknife, and buried it, covering up the hole again with the earth."

  "Describe the place," said I. Dawson paused, and seemed to recollect; Iwas on the very tenterhooks of suspence, for I saw with one glance allthe importance of his reply.

  After some moments, he shook his head; "I cannot describe the place,"said he, "for the wood is so thick: yet I know the exact spot sowell, that were I in any part of the plantation, I could point it outimmediately."

  I told him to pause again, and recollect himself; and, at all events,to try to indicate the place. However, his account was so confused andperplexed, that I was forced to give up the point in despair, and hecontinued.

  "After we had done this, Thornton told me to hold the horses, and saidhe would go alone, to spy whether we might return; accordingly he didso, and brought back word, in about half an hour, that he had creptcautiously along till in sight of the place, and then throwing himselfdown on his face by the ridge of a bank, had observed a man, (whom hewas sure was the person with a cloak we had passed, and whom, he said,was Sir Reginald Glanville,) mount his horse on the very spot of themurder, and ride off, while another person (Mr. Pelham), appeared, andalso discovered the fatal place.

  "'There is no doubt now,' said he, 'that we shall have the hue-and cryupon us. However, if you are staunch and stout-hearted, no possibledanger can come to us; for you may leave me alone to throw the wholeguilt upon Sir Reginald Glanville.'

  "'We then mounted, and rode home. We stole up stairs by theback-way--Thornton's linen and hands were stained with blood. The formerhe took off, locked up carefully, and burnt the first opportunity; thelatter he washed; and that the water might not lead to detection, drankit. We then appeared as if nothing had occurred, and learnt thatMr. Pelham had been to the house; but as, very fortunately, ourout-buildings had been lately robbed by some idle people, the wife andservants had refused to admit him. I was thrown into great agitation,and was extremely frightened. However, as Mr. Pelham had left a messagethat we were to go to the pond, Thornton insisted upon our repairingthere to avoid suspicion."

  Dawson then proceeded to say, that, on their return, as he was stillexceedingly nervous, Thornton insisted on his going to bed. When ourparty from Lord Chester's came to the house, Thornton went into Dawson'sroom, and made him swallow a large tumbler of brandy; [Note: A commonpractice with thieves, who fear the weak nerves of their accomplices.]this intoxicated him so as to make him less sensible to his dangeroussituation. Afterwards, when the picture was found, which circumstanceThornton communicated to him, along with that of the threatening lettersent by Glanville to the deceased, which was discovered in Tyrrell'spocket-book, Dawson recovered courage; and justice being entirely thrownon a wrong scent, he managed to pass his examination without suspicion.He then went to town with Thornton, and constantly attended "the club"to which Jonson had before introduced him; at first, among his newcomrades, and while the novel flush of the money, he had so fearfullyacquired, lasted, he partially succeeded in stifling his remorse. Butthe success of crime is too contrary to nature to continue long; hispoor wife, whom, in spite of her extravagant, and his dissolute habits,he seemed really to love, fell ill, and died; on her deathbed sherevealed the suspicions she had formed of his crime, and said, thatthose suspicions had preyed upon, and finally destroyed her health; thisawoke him from the guilty torpor of his conscience. His share of themoney, too, the greater part of which Thornton had bullied out of him,was gone. He fell, as Job had said, into despondency and gloom, andoften spoke to Thornton so forcibly of his remorse, and so earnestlyof his gnawing an
d restless desire to appease his mind, by surrenderinghimself to justice, that the fears of that villain grew, at length, sothoroughly alarmed, as to procure his removal to his present abode.

  It was here that his real punishment commenced; closely confined to hisapartment, at the remotest corner of the house, his solitude was neverbroken but by the short and hurried visits of his female gaoler, and(worse even than loneliness), the occasional invasions of Thornton.There appeared to be in that abandoned wretch what, for the honour ofhuman nature, is but rarely found, viz., a love of sin, not forits objects, but itself. With a malignity, doubly fiendish from itsinutility, he forbade Dawson the only indulgence he craved--a light,during the dark hours; and not only insulted him for his cowardice, buteven added to his terrors, by threats of effectually silencing them.

  These fears had so wildly worked upon the man's mind, that prisonitself appeared to him an elysium to the hell he endured; and when hisconfession was ended, I said, "If you can be freed from this place,would you repeat before a magistrate all that you have now told me?"

  He started up in delight at the very thought; in truth, besides hisremorse, and that inward and impelling voice which, in all the annals ofmurder, seems to urge the criminal onwards to the last expiation of hisguilt--besides these, there mingled in his mind a sentiment of bitter,yet cowardly, vengeance, against his inhuman accomplice; and perhapshe found consolation for his own fate, in the hope of wreaking uponThornton's head somewhat of the tortures that ruffian had inflicted uponhim.

  I had taken down in my book the heads of the confession, and I nowhastened to Jonson, who, waiting without the door, had (as I hadanticipated) heard all.

  "You see," said I, "that, however satisfactory this recital has been, itcontains no secondary or innate proofs to confirm it; the only evidencewith which it could furnish us, would be the remnant of the brokenknife, engraved with Thornton's name; but you have heard from Dawson'saccount, how impossible it would be in an extensive wood, for any todiscover the spot but himself. You will agree with me, therefore, thatwe must not leave this house without Dawson."

  Job changed colour slightly.

  "I see as clearly as you do," said he, "that it will be necessary for myannuity, and your friend's full acquittal, to procure Dawson's personalevidence, but it is late now; the men may be still drinking below; Bessmay be still awake, and stirring; even if she sleeps, how could we passher room without disturbing her? I own that I do not see a chance ofeffecting his escape to-night, without incurring the most probable perilof having our throats cut. Leave it, therefore, to me to procure hisrelease as soon as possible--probably to-morrow, and let us now quietlyretire, content with what we have yet got."

  Hitherto I had implicitly obeyed Job; it was now my turn to command."Look you," said I, calmly, but sternly, "I have come into this houseunder your guidance solely, to procure the evidence of that man; theevidence he has, as yet, given may not be worth a straw; and, since Ihave ventured among the knives of your associates, it shall be for somepurpose. I tell you fairly that, whether you befriend or betray me, Iwill either leave these walls with Dawson, or remain in them a corpse."

  "You are a bold blade, Sir," said Jonson, who seemed rather to respectthan resent the determination of my tone, "and we will see what can bedone: wait here, your honour, while I go down to see if the boys aregone to bed, and the coast is clear."

  Job descended, and I re-entered Dawson's room. When I told him that wewere resolved, if possible, to effect his escape, nothing could exceedhis transport and gratitude; this was, indeed, expressed in so mean andservile a manner, mixed with so many petty threats of vengeance againstThornton, that I could scarcely conceal my disgust.

  Jonson returned, and beckoned me out of the room.

  "They are all in bed, Sir," said he--"Bess as well as the rest; indeed,the old girl has lushed so well at the bingo, that she sleeps as if hernext morrow was the day of judgment. I have, also, seen that the streetdoor is still unbarred, so that, upon the whole, we have, perhaps, asgood a chance to-night as we may ever have again. All my fear is aboutthat cowardly lubber. I have left both Bess's doors wide open, so wehave nothing to do but to creep through; as for me, I am an old file,and could steal my way through a sick man's room, like a sunbeam througha keyhole."

  "Well," said I, in the same strain, "I am no elephant, and my dancingmaster used to tell me I might tread on a butterfly's wing withoutbrushing off a tint: poor Coulon! he little thought of the use hislessons would be to me hereafter!--so let us be quick, Master Job."

  "Stop," said Jonson; "I have yet a ceremony to perform with our cagedbird. I must put a fresh gag on his mouth; for though, if he escapes, Imust leave England, perhaps, for ever, for fear of the jolly boys, and,therefore, care not what he blabs about me; yet there are a few finefellows amongst the club whom I would not have hurt for the Indies; so Ishall make Master Dawson take our last oath--the Devil himself would notbreak that, I think! Your honour will stay outside the door, for we canhave no witness while it is administered."

  Job then entered; I stood without;--in a few minutes I heard Dawson'svoice in the accents of supplication. Soon after Job returned, "Thecraven dog won't take the oath," said he, "and may my right hand rotabove ground before it shall turn key for him unless he does." But whenDawson saw that Job had left the room, and withdrawn the light, theconscience-stricken coward came to the door, and implored Job to return."Will you swear then?" said Jonson; "I will, I will," was the answer.

  Job then re-entered--minutes passed away--Job re-appeared, and Dawsonwas dressed, and clinging hold of him--"All's right," said he to me,with a satisfied air.

  The oath had been taken--what it was I know not--but it was neverbroken. [Note: Those conversant with the annals of Newgate, will knowhow religiously the oaths of these fearful Freemasonries are kept.]

  Dawson and Job went first--I followed--we passed the passage, and cameto the chamber of the sleeping Mrs. Brimstone. Job leant eagerlyforward to listen, before we entered; he took hold of Dawson's arm, andbeckoning to me to follow, stole, with a step that a blind mole wouldnot have heard, across the room. Carefully did the practised thief veilthe candle he carried, with his hand, as he now began to pass by thebed. I saw that Dawson trembled like a leaf, and the palpitation of hislimbs made his step audible and heavy. Just as they had half-way passedthe bed, I turned my look on Brimstone Bess, and observed, with ashuddering thrill, her eyes slowly open, and fix upon the forms of mycompanions. Dawson's gaze had been bent in the same direction, and whenhe met the full, glassy stare of the beldame's eyes, he uttered a faintscream. This completed our danger; had it not been for that exclamation,Bess might, in the uncertain vision of drowsiness, have passed over thethird person, and fancied it was only myself and Jonson, in our way fromDawson's apartment; but no sooner had her ear caught the sound, than shestarted up, and sat erect on her bed, gazing at us in mingled wrath andastonishment.

  That was a fearful moment--we stood rivetted to the spot! "Oh, mykiddies," cried Bess, at last finding speech, "you are in Queer-street,I trow! Plant your stumps, Master Guinea Pig; you are going to stalloff the Daw's baby in prime twig, eh? But Bess stags you, my cove! Bessstags you."

  Jonson, looked irresolute for one instant; but the next he had decided."Run, run," cried he, "for your lives," and he and Dawson (to whom, feardid indeed lend wings) were out of the room in an instant. I lost notime in following their example; but the vigilant and incensed hagwas too quick for me; she pulled violently the bell, on which shehad already placed her hand: the alarm rang like an echo in a cavern;below--around--far--near--from wall to wall--from chamber to chamber,the sound seemed multiplied and repeated! and in the same breathingpoint of time, she sprang from her bed, and seized me, just as I hadreached the door.

  "On, on, on," cried Jonson's voice to Dawson, as they had already gainedthe passage, and left the whole room, and the staircase beyond, in utterdarkness.

  With a firm, muscular, nervous gripe, which almost shewed a masculinestre
ngth, the hag clung to my throat and breast; behind, among some ofthe numerous rooms in the passage we had left, I heard sounds, whichtold too plainly how rapidly the alarm had spread. A door opened--stepsapproached--my fate seemed fixed; but despair gave me energy: it wasno time for the ceremonials due to the beau sexe. I dashed Bess to theground, tore myself from her relaxing grasp, and fled down the stepswith all the precipitation the darkness would allow. I gained thepassage, at the far end of which hung the lamp, now weak and waning inits socket; which, it will be remembered, burnt close by the sick man'schamber that I had so unintentionally entered. A thought flashed upon mymind, and lent me new nerves and fresh speed; I flew along the passage,guided by the dying light. The staircase I had left, shook with thefootsteps of my pursuers. I was at the door of the sick thief--I burstit open--seized the sword as it lay within reach on the chair, whereJonson had placed it, and feeling, at the touch of the familiar weapon,as if the might of ten men had been transferred to my single arm, Ibounded down the stairs before me--passed the door at the bottom, whichDawson had fortunately left open--flung it back almost upon the face ofmy advancing enemies, and found myself in the long passage which ledto the street-door, in safety, but in the thickest darkness. A lightflashed from a door to the left; the door was that of the "Common Room"which we had first entered; it opened, and Spider-shanks, with one ofhis comrades, looked forth; the former holding a light. I darted bythem, and, guided by their lamp, fled along the passage, and reached thedoor. Imagine my dismay! when, either through accident, or by the desireof my fugitive companions to impede pursuit, I found it unexpectedlyclosed.

  The two villains had now come up to me, close at their heels were twomore, probably my pursuers, from the upper apartments. Providentiallythe passage was (as I before said) extremely narrow, and as long as nofire-arms were used, nor a general rush resorted to, I had little doubtof being able to keep the ruffians at bay, until I had hit upon themethod of springing the latch, and so winning my escape from the house.

  While my left hand was employed in feeling the latch, I made such gooduse of my right, as to keep my antagonists at a safe distance. The onewho was nearest to me, was Fib Fakescrew; he was armed with a weaponexactly similar to my own. The whole passage rung with oaths andthreats. "Crash the cull--down with him--down with him, before he dubsthe jigger. Tip him the degen, Fib, fake him through and through; if hepikes, we shall all be scragged."

  Hitherto, in the confusion I had not been able to recall Job'sinstructions in opening the latch; at last I remembered, and pressed,the screw--the latch rose--I opened the door; but not wide enough toscape through the aperture. The ruffians saw my escape at hand. "Rushthe b--cove! rush him!" cried the loud voice of one behind; and atthe word, Fib was thrown forwards upon the extended edge of my blade;scarcely with an effort of my own arm, the sword entered his bosom, andhe fell at my feet bathed in blood; the motion which the men thoughtwould prove my destruction, became my salvation; staggered by the fallof their companion they gave way: I seized advantage of the momentaryconfusion--threw open the door, and, mindful of Job's admonition, turnedto the right, and fled onwards, with a rapidity which baffled and mockedpursuit.