Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
THE MYSTERIES OF THE OLD HOUSE
FORTUNATELY for the interesting young stranger,
the individuals who had just entered the house did not attempt the door of the
room in which he had taken refuge. They proceeded straight - and with a
steadiness which seemed to indicate that they knew the locality well - to the
front chamber upon the same floor.
In a few moments there was a sharp grating noise along the
wall; and then a light suddenly shone into the room where the young stranger
was concealed, He cast a terrified glance around, and beheld a small square
window in the wall, which separated the two apartments. It was about five feet
from the floor - a height which permitted the youth to avail himself of it, in
order to reconnoitre the proceedings in the next room.
By means of a candle which had been lighted by the aid of a
lucifer-match, and which stood upon a dirty deal table, the young stranger
beheld two men, whose outward appearance did not serve to banish his alarm.
They were dressed like operatives of the most humble class. One wore a
gabardine and coarse leather gaiters, with laced-up boots; the other had on a
fustian shooting-jacket and long corduroy trousers. They were both dirty and
unshaven. The one with the shooting-jacket had a profusion of hair about his
face, but which was evidently not well acquainted with a comb: the other wore
no whiskers, but his beard was of three or four days' growth. Both were
powerful, thick-set, and muscular men; and the expression of their countenances
was dogged, determined, and ferocious.
The room to which they had betaken themselves was cold,
gloomy, and dilapidated. It was furnished with the deal table before mentioned,
and three old crazy chairs, upon two of which the men now seated themselves.
But they were so placed that they commanded, their door being open, a full view
of the landing-place; and thus the youthful stranger deemed it impolitic to
attempt to take his departure for the moment.
"Now, Bill, out with the bingo," said the man in
the gabardine to his companion.
"Oh! you're always for the lush, you are, Dick,"
answered the latter in a surly tone, producing at the same time a bottle of
liquor from the capacious pocket of his fustian coat. "But I wonder how
the devil it is that Crankey Jem ain't come yet. Who the deuce could have left
that infernal door open?"
"Jem or some of the other blades must have been here
and left it so. It don't matter; it lulls suspicion."
"Well, let's make the reglars all square," resumed
the man called Bill, after a moment's pause; "we'll then booze a bit, and
talk over this here new job of our'n."
"Look alive, then," said Dick; and he forthwith took
from beneath his gabardine several small parcels done up in brown paper.
The other man likewise divested the pockets of his fustian
coat of divers packages; and all these were piled upon the table.
A strange and mysterious proceeding then took place.
The person in the fustian coat approached the chimney, and
applied a small turnscrew, which be took from his pocket, to a screw in the
iron frame-work of the rusty grate. In a few moments he was enabled to remove
the entire grate with his hands; a square aperture of considerable dimensions
was then revealed. Into this place the two men thrust the parcels which they
had taken from their pockets: the grate was replaced, the screws were fastened
once more, and the work of concealment was complete.
The one in the gabardine then advanced towards that portion
of the wall which was between the two windows; and the youth in the adjoining
room now observed for the first time that the shutters of those windows were
closed, and that coarse brown paper had been pasted all over the chinks and
joints. Dick applied his hand in a peculiar manner to the part of the wall just
alluded to, and a sliding panel immediately revealed a capacious cupboard.
Thence the two men took food of by no means a coarse description, glasses,
pipes, and tobacco; and, having hermetically closed the recess once more,
seated themselves at the table to partake of the good cheer thus mysteriously
supplied.
The alarm of the poor youth in the next chamber, as he
contemplated these extraordinary proceedings, may be better conceived than
depicted. His common sense told him that he was in the den of lawless thieves -
perhaps murderers; in a house abounding with the secret means of concealing
every kind of infamy. His eyes wandered away from the little window that had
enabled him to observe the above-described proceedings, and glanced fearfully
around the room in which he was concealed. He almost expected to see the very
floor open beneath his feet. He looked down mechanically as this idea flitted
through his imagination; and to his horror and dismay he beheld a trap-door in
the floor. There was no mistaking it: there it was - about three feet long and
two broad, and a little sunken beneath the level of its frame-work.
Near the edge of the trap-door lay an object which also
attracted the youth's attention and added to his fears. It was a knife with a
long blade pointed like a dagger. About three inches of this blade was covered
with a peculiar rust: the youth shuddered; could it be human blood that had
stained that instrument of death?
Every circumstance, however trivial, aided, in such a place
as that, to arouse or confirm the worst fears, the most horrible suspicions.
The voices of the two men in the next room fell upon the
youth's ear; and, perceiving that escape was still impracticable, he determined
to gratify that curiosity which was commingled with his fears.
"Well, now, about this t'other job, Dick?" said
Bill.
"It's Jem as started it," was the reply. "But
he told me all about it, and so we may as well talk it over. It's up Islington
way - up there between Kentish Town and Lower Holloway."
"Who's crib is it?"
"A swell of the name of Markham. He is an old fellow,
and has two sons. One, the eldest, is with his regiment; t'other, the youngest,
is only about fifteen, or so - a mere kid."
"Well, there's no danger to be expected from him. But
what about the flunkies?"
"Only two man-servants and three wimen. One of
the man-servants is the old butler, too fat to do any good; and t'other is a
young tiger."
"And that's all ?"
"That's all. Now you, and I, and Jem is quite enough to
crack that there crib. When is it to be done?"
"Let's say to-morrow night; there is no moon now to
speak on, and business in other quarters is slack."
"So be it. Here goes, then, to the success of our now
job at old Markham's;" and as the burglar uttered these words he tossed
off a bumper of brandy.
This example was followed by his worthy cornpanion; and
their conversation then turned upon other topics.
"I say, Bill, this old house has seen some jolly games,
han't it?"
"I should think it had too. It was Jonathan Wild's
favourite crib; and he was no fool at keeping things dark."
"No, surely. I dare say the well-staircase in the next
room there, that's covered over with the trap-door, has had many a dead body
flung down it into the Fleet."
"Ah !- and without telling no tales too. But the
trap-door has been nailed over for some years now."
The unfortunate youth in the adjacent chamber was riveted in
silent horror to the spot, as these fearful details fell upon his ears.
"Why was the trap-door nailed down?"
"Cos there's no use for that now, since the house is
uninhabited, and no more travellers comes to lodge here. Besides, if we wanted
to make use of such a conwenience, there's another —"
A loud clap of thunder prevented the remainder of this
sentence from reaching the youth's ears.
"I've heard it said that the City is going to make
great alterations in this quarter," observed Dick, after a pause. "If
so be they comes near us, we must shift our quarters."
"Well, and don't we know other cribs as good as this -
and just under the very nose of the authorities too? The nearer you gets to
them the safer you finds yourself. Who'd think now that here, and in
Peter-street, and on Saffron-hill too, there was such cribs as this? Lord, how
such coves as you and me does laugh when them chaps in the Common Council and
the House of Commons gets on their legs and praises the blue-bottles up to the
skies as the most acutest police in the world, while they wotes away the
people's money to maintain 'em!"
"Oh! as for alterations, I don't suppose there'll be
any for the next twenty years to come. They always talks of improvements long
afore they begins 'em."
"But when they do commence, they won't spare this
lovely old crib! It 'ud go to my heart to see them pull it about. I'd much
sooner take and shove a dozen stiff uns myself down the trap than see a single
rafter of the place ill-treated - that I would."
"Ah! if so be as the masons does come to pull its old
carcass about, there'll be some fine things
[-6-]
made known to the world. Them
cellars down stairs, in which a man might hide for fifty years and never be
smelt out by the police, will turn up a bone or two, I rather suspect; and not
of a sheep, nor a pig, nor a bull neither."
"Why - half the silly folks in this neighbourhood are
afeerd to come hero even in the daytime, because they say it's haunted,"
observed Bill, after a brief pause. "But, for my part, I shouldn't be
frightened to come here at all hours of the night, and sit here alone too, even
if every feller as was scragged at Tyburn or Newgate, and every one wot has
been tumbled down these holes into the Fleet, was to startup, and—"
The man stopped short, turned ghastly pale, and fell back
stupified and speechless in his chair. His pipe dropped from between his
fingers, and broke to pieces upon the floor.
"What the devil's the matter now?" demanded his
companion, casting an anxious glance around.
"There! there! don't you see —," gasped the
terrified ruffian, pointing towards the little window looking into the next
room.
"It's only some d–d gammon of Crankey Jim,"
ejaculated Dick, who was more courageous in such matters than his companion.
"I'll deuced soon put that to rights!"
Seizing the candle, he was hurrying towards the door, when
his comrade rushed after him, crying, "No - I won't be left in the dark! I
can't bear it! Damme, if you go, I'll go with you!"
The two villains accordingly proceeded together into the
next room.
THE youthful stranger had listened with
ineffable surprise and horror to the conversation of the two ruffians. His
nerves had been worked up by all the circumstances of the evening to a tone
bordering upon madness - to that pitch, indeed, when it appeared as if there
were no alternative left save to fall upon the floor and yield to the
delirium tremens
of violent emotions.
He had restrained his feelings while he heard the burglary
at Mr. Markham's dwelling coolly planned and settled; but when the discourse of
those two monsters in human shape developed to his imagination all the horrors
of the fearful place in which he had sought an asylum, - when he heard that he
was actually standing upon the very verge of that staircase down which
innumerable victims had been hurled to the depths of the slimy ditch beneath, -
and when he thought how probable it was that his bones were doomed to whiten in
the dark and hidden caverns below, along with the remains of other human beings
who had been barbarously murdered in cold blood, - reason appeared to forsake
him. A cold sweat broke forth all over him; and he seemed about to faint under
the impression of a hideous nightmare.
He threw his hat upon the floor - for he felt the want of
air. That proud forehead, that beautiful countenance were distorted with
indescribable horror; and an ashy pallor spread itself over his features.
Death, in all its most hideous forms, appeared to follow -
to surround - to hem him in. There was no escape - a trap-door here - a well,
communicating with the ditch, there - or else the dagger; - no matter in what
shape - still Death was before him - behind him - above him - below him - on
every side of him.
It was horrible - most horrible!
Then was it that a sudden thought flashes across his brain:
he resolved to attempt a desperate effort to escape. He summoned all his
courage to his aid, and opened the door so cautiously that, though the hinges
were old and rusted, they did not creak.
The crisis was now at hand. If he could clear the landing
unperceived, he was safe. It was true that, seen or unseen, he might succeed in
escaping from the house by means of his superior agility and nimbleness; but he
reflected that these men would capture him again, in a few minutes, in the
midst of a labyrinth of streets with which he was utterly unacquainted, but
which they knew so well. He remembered that he had overheard their secrets and
witnessed their mysterious modes of concealment; and that, should he fall into
their power, death must inevitably await him.
These ideas crossed his brain in a moment, and convinced him
of the necessity of prudence and extreme caution. He must leave the house
unperceived, and dare the pitiless storm and pelting rain; for the tempest
still raged without.
He once more approached the window to ascertain if there
were any chance of stealing across the landing-place unseen. Unfortunately he
drew too near the window: the light of the candle fell full upon his
countenance, which horror and alarm had rendered deadly pale and fearfully
convulsed.
It was at this moment that the ruffian, in the midst of his
unholy vaunts, had caught sight of that human face - white as a sheet - and
with eyes fixed upon him with a glare which his imagination rendered stony and
unearthly.
The youth saw that he was discovered; and a full sense of
the desperate peril which hung over him, rushed to his mind. He turned, and
endeavoured to fly away from the fatal spot; but, as imagination frequently
fetters the limbs in a nightmare, and involves the sleeper in danger from which
he vainly attempts to run, so did his legs now refuse to perform their office.
His brain whirled - his eyes grew dim: he grasped at the
wall to save himself from falling - but his senses were deserting him - and he
sank fainting upon the floor.
He awoke from the trance into which he had fallen, and
became aware that he was being moved along. Almost at the same instant his eyes
fell upon the sinister countenance of Dick, who was carrying him by the feet. The
other ruffian was supporting his head.
They were lifting him down the staircase, upon the top step
of which the candle was standing.
All the incidents of the evening immediately returned to the
memory of the wretched boy, who now only too well comprehended the desperate
perils that surrounded him.
The bottom of the staircase was reached: the villains
deposited their burden for a moment in the passage, while Dick retraced his
steps to fetch down the candle.
And then a horrible conflict of feelings and inclinations
took place in the bosom of the unhappy youth. He shut his eyes; and for an
instant debating within himself whether he should
remain silent or cry out. He
dreamt of immediate - instantaneous death and yet he thought that he was young
to die - oh, so. young - and that men could not be such barbarians —
But when the two ruffians stooped down to take him up again,
fear surmounted all other sentiments, feelings, and inclinations; and his deep
- his profound - his heartfelt agony was expressed in one long, loud, and
piercing shriek!
And then a fearful scene took place.
The two villains carried the youth into the front room upon
the ground-floor, and laid him down for a moment.
It was the seine room to which he had first found his way
upon entering that house.
It was the room in which, by the glare of the evanescent
lightning, he had seen that black square upon the dirty floor.
For a few instants all was dark. At length the candle was
brought by the man in the fustian coat.
The youth glanced wildly around him, and speedily recognised
that room.
He remembered how deep a sensation of horror seized him when
that black square upon the floor first caught his eyes.
He raised himself upon his left arm, and once more looked
around.
Great God! was it possible?
That ominous blackness - that sinister square was the mouth
of a yawning gulf, the trap-door of which was raised.
A fetid smell rose from the depths below, and the gurgling
of a current was faintly heard. The dread truth was in a moment made apparent
to that unhappy boy - much more quickly than it occupies to relate or read. He
started from his supine posture, and fell upon his knees at the feet of those
merciless villains who had borne him thither.
"Mercy, mercy! I implore you! Oh! do not devote me to
so horrible a death! Do not -
do not murder me!
"
"Hold your noisy tongue, you fool," ejaculated
Bill, brutally. "You have heard and seen too much for our safety ; we
can't do otherwise."
"No, certainly not," added Dick. "You are now
as fly to the fakement as any one of us."
"Spare me, spare me, and I will never betray you! Oh!
do not send me out of this world, so young - so very young! I have money, I
have wealth, I am rich, and I will give you all I possess!"
ejaculated the agonized youth; his countenance wearing an expression of
horrible despair.
"Come; here's enough. Bill, lend a hand!" and Dick
seized the boy by one arm, while his companion took a firm hold of the other.
"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked the youth, struggling
violently; but struggling vainly. "You will repent when you know - I am
not what I —"
He said no more: hit last words were uttered over the mouth
of the chasm ere the ruffians loosened their hold; - and then he fell.
The trap-door was closed violently over the aperture, and
drowned the scream of agony which burst from his lips.
The two murderers then retraced their steps to the apartment
on the first floor.
* *
* * * * *
* * *
On the following day, about one o'clock, Mr. Markham, a gentleman
of fortune residing in the northern environs of London, received the following
letter: -
"The Inscrutable decree, of Providence hare enabled the
undersigned to warn you, that this night a burglarious attempt will be made
upon your dwelling. The wretches who contemplate this infamy are capable of a
crime of much blacker die. Beware!
"AN
UNKNOWN FRIEND"
This letter was written in a beautiful feminine
hand. Due precaution was adopted at Mr. Markham's mansion; but the attempt
alluded to in the warning epistle was, for some reason or another, not made.