Stranica 148 [148]
106
told you from the first. I wont shed
blood ; it’s always found out, and haunts
a man besides! If they shot him dead, I
was not the cause; do you hear me?!
Fire this infernal den !—what’s that ?”
c What!” cried the Jew, grasping the
coward round the body with both arms as
he sprung to his feet. “ Where?”
s Yonder!” replied the man, glaring at
the opposite wall. " The shadow—l saw
the shadow of a woman in a cloak and
bonnet pass along the wainscot like a
breath !”
The Jew released his hold, and they
rushed tumultuously from the room. The
candle, wasted by the draught, was stand¬
ing where it had been placed, and show¬
ed them the empty stair-cases, and their
own white faces. They listened intently,
but a profound silence reigned through¬
out the house.
“It’s your fancy,” said the Jew, taking
up the light, and turning to his com¬
panion.
cé [711 swear I saw it!” replied Monks,
trembling violently. “It was bending
forward when I saw it first, and when Í
spoke it darted away.”
The Jew glanced contemptuously at
the pale face of his associate, and, telling
him he could follow if he pleased, ascend¬
ed the stairs. They looked into all the
rooms; they were cold, bare, and empty.
They descended to the passage, and
thence into the cellars below. The green
damp hung upon the low walls, and the
tracks of the snail and slug glistened in
the light, but all was still as death.
“+ What do you think now, my dear ?”
said the Jew, when they had regained
the passage. “ Besides ourselves, there ’s
not a creature in the house except Toby
and the boys, and they "re safe enough.
See here !”
As a proof of the fact, the Jew drew
forth two keys from his pocket; and ex¬
plained that when he first went down
stairs he had locked them in, to prevent
any intrusion on the conference.
This accumulated testimony effectually
staggered Mr. Monks. His protestations
had gradually become less and less vehe¬
ment as they proceeded in their search
without making any discovery; and now
he gave vent to several very grim laughs,
and confessed it could only have been his
excited imagination. He declined any
renewal of the conversation however for
that night, suddenly remembering that it
was past one o’clock; and so the amiable
couple parted.
CHAPTER THE FIFTH
Atones for the unpoliteness of a former chapter,
which deserted a Lady most unceremoniously.
As it would be by no means seemly in
a humble author to keep so mighty a per¬
sonage as a beadle waiting with his back
to a fire, and the skirts of his coat gather¬
ed up under his arms, until such time as
it might suit his pleasure to relieve him;
and as it would still less become his
station or his gallantry to involve in the
same neglect a lady on whom that beadle
had looked with an eye of tenderness and
affection, and in whose ear he had whis¬
pered sweet words, which, coming from
such a quarter, might well thrill the
bosom of maid or matron of whatsoever
degree; the faithful historian whose pen
traces these words, trusting that he knows
his place, and entertains a becoming re¬
verence for those upon earth to whom
high and important authority is delegated,
hastens to pay them that respect which
their position demands, and to treat them
with all that duteous ceremony which
their exalted rank and (by consequence)
great virtues imperatively claim at his
hands. Towards this end, indeed, he had
purposed to introduce in this place a dis¬
sertation touching the divine right of
beadles, and elucidative of the position
that a beadle can do no wrong, which
could not fail to have been both pleasur¬
able and profitable to the right-minded
reader, but which he is unfortunately
compelled by want of time and space to
postpone to some more convenient and
fitting opportunity; on the arrival of
which, he will be prepared to show that
a beadle properly constituted—that is to
say, a parochial beadle attached to the
parochial workhouse, and attending in
his official capacity the parochial church,
—is, in right and virtue of his office, pos¬
sessed of all the excellencies and best
qualities of humanity; and that to none
of those excellencies can mere com¬
panies’ beadles, or court-of-law beadles,
or even chapel-of-ease beadles (save the
last in a very lowly and inferior degree,)
lay the remotest sustainable claim.
Mr. Bumble had re-counted the tea¬
spoons, re-weighed the sugar-tongs, made
a closer inspection of the milk-pot, and
ascertained to a nicety the exact condi¬
tion of the furniture down to the very
horse-hair seats of the chairs, and had
repeated each process full halfa-dozen
times, before he began to think that it
was time for Mrs. Corney to return,