LITMIR.BIZ

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Mr. Tyrconnel,” said Coates, coolly taking up the pistol from the table, “I’m a man of few words, but those few are, I hope, to the purpose, and I’d have you to know if you stir from that chair, or attempt to leave the room, damme but I’ll send a brace of bullets after you. I’m serious, I assure you.” And he cocked the pistol.

      By way of reply to this menace, Titus deliberately filled a stiff glass of whisky-and-water.

      “That’s your last glass,” said the inexorable Coates.

      To return once more to Luke. He slept uneasily for some short space, and was awakened by a sound which reached his dreaming ears and connected itself with the visions that slumber was weaving around him. It was some moments before he could distinctly remember where he was. He would not venture to sleep again, though he felt overwhelmed by drowsiness — there was a fixed pain at his heart, as if circulation were suspended. Changing his posture, he raised himself upon one arm; he then became aware of a scratching noise, somewhat similar to the sound he had heard in his dream, and perceived a light gleaming through a crevice in the oaken partition. His attention was immediately arrested, and placing his eye close to the chink, he distinctly saw a dark lantern burning, and by its light a man filing some implement of housebreaking. The light fell before the hard features of the man, with whose countenance Luke was familiar; and although only one person came within the scope of his view, Luke could make out, from a muttered conversation that was carried on, that he had a companion. The parties were near to him, and though speaking in a low tone, Luke’s quick ear caught the following:

      “What keeps Jack Palmer, I wonder?” said he of the file. “We’re all ready for the fakement — pops primed — and I tell you what, Rob Rust, I’ve made my clasp-knife as sharp as a razor, and damme, if Lady Rookwood offers any resistance, I’ll spoil her talking in future, I promise you.”

      Suppressed laughter from Rust followed this speech. That laugh made Luke’s blood run cold within his veins.

      “Harkee, Dick Wilder, you’re a reg’lar out-and-outer, and stops at nothing, and curse me if I’d think any more of it than yourself. But Jack’s as squeamish of bloodshed as young Miss that cries at her cut finger. It’s the safer plan. Say what you will, nothing but that will stop a woman’s tongue.”

      “I shall make short work with her ladyship to-night, anyhow. Hist! here Jack comes.”

      A footstep crossed in the room, and, presently afterwards, exclamations of surprise and smothered laughter were heard from the parties.

      “Bravo, Jack! famous! that disguise would deceive the devil himself.”

      “And now, my lads,” said the newcomer, “is all right?”

      “Right and tight.”

      “Nothing forgotten?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Then off with your stamps, and on with your list slippers; not a word. Follow me, and, for your lives, don’t move a step but as I direct you. The word must be, ’Sir Piers Rookwood calls.’ We’ll overhaul the swag here. This crack may make us all for life; and if you’ll follow my directions implicitly, we’ll do the trick in style. This slum must be our rendezvous when all’s over; for hark ye, my lads, I’ll not budge an inch till Luke Bradley be set free. He’s an old friend, and I always stick by old friends. I’d do the same for one of you if you were in the same scrape, so, damn you, no flinching; besides, I owe that spider-shanked, snivelling split-cause Coates, who stands sentry, a grudge, and I’ll pay him off, as Paul did the Ephesians. You may crop his ears, or slit his tongue as you would a magpie’s, or any other chattering varmint; make him sign his own testament, or treat him with a touch of your Habeas Corpus Act, if you think proper, or give him a taste of blue plumb. One thing only I stipulate, that you don’t hurt that fat, mutton-headed Broganeer, whatever he may say or do; he’s a devilish good fellow. And now to business.”

      Saying which, they noiselessly departed. But carefully as the door was closed, Luke’s ear could detect the sound. His blood boiled with indignation; and he experienced what all must have felt who have been similarly situated, with the will, but not the power, to assist another — a sensation almost approaching to torture. At this moment a distant scream burst upon his ears — another — he hesitated no longer. With all his force he thundered at the door.

      “What do you want, rascal?” cried Coates, from without.

      “There are robbers in the house.”

      “Thank you for the information. There is one I know of already.”

      “Fool, they are in Lady Rookwood’s room. Run to her assistance.”

      “A likely story, and leave you here.”

      “Do you hear that scream?”

      “Eh, what — what’s that? I do hear something.” Here Luke dashed with all his force against the door. It yielded to the blow, and he stood before the astonished attorney.

      “Advance a footstep, villain,” exclaimed Coates, presenting both his pistols, “and I lodge a brace of balls in your head.”

      “Listen to me,” said Luke; “the robbers are in Lady Rookwood’s chamber — they will plunder the place of everything — perhaps murder her. Fly to her assistance, I will accompany you — assist you — it is your only chance.”

      “My only chance —your only chance. Do you take me for a greenhorn? This is a poor subterfuge; could you not have vamped up something better? Get back to your own room, or I shall make no more of shooting you than I would of snuffing that candle.”

      “Be advised, sir,” continued Luke. “There are three of them — give me a pistol, and fear nothing.”

      “Give you a pistol! Ha, ha! — to be its mark myself. You are an amusing rascal, I will say.”

      “Sir, I tell you not a moment is to be lost. Is life nothing? Lady Rookwood may be murdered.”

      “I tell you, once for all, it won’t do. Go back to your room, or take the consequences.”

      “By the powers! but it shall do, anyhow,” exclaimed Titus, flinging himself upon the attorney, and holding both his arms; “you’ve bullied me long enough. I’m sure the lad’s in the right.”

      Luke snatched the pistols from the hands of Coates.

      “Very well, Mr. Tyrconnel; very well, sir,” cried the attorney, boiling with wrath, and spluttering out his words. “Extremely well, sir. You are not perhaps aware, sir, what you have done; but you will repent this, sir — repent, I say — repent was my word, Mr. Tyrconnel.”

      “Poh! — poh!” replied Titus. “I shall never repent a good-natured action.”

      “Follow me,” cried Luke; “settle your disputes hereafter. Quick, or we shall be too late.”

      Coates bustled after him, and Titus, putting the neck of the forbidden whisky bottle to his lips, and gulping down a hasty mouthful, snatched up a rusty poker, and followed the party with more alacrity than might have been expected from so portly a personage.

      CHAPTER 6

       THE APPARITION

       Table of Contents

      Gibbet. Well, gentlemen, ’tis a fine night for our enterprise.

      Hounslow. Dark as hell.

      Bagshot. And blows like the devil.

      Boniface. You’ll have no creature to deal with but the ladies.

      Gibbet. And I can assure you, friend, there’s a great deal of address, and good manners, in robbing a lady. I am the most of a gentleman, that way, that ever travelled the road.

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