City Crimes; Or, Life in New York and BostonThompson, George
General
City Crimes; Or, Life in New York and Boston
Thompson, George
Boston (Mass.) -- Fiction; Crime -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
'What is your business with us?' demanded Josephine, haughtily.
'Ha! young hussey, you are very saucy,' growled the stranger
savagely--'but your pride will soon be humbled. In the first place, are
we alone, and secure from interruption?'
'We are--why do you ask?' said Mrs. Franklin.
'Because your own personal safety demands that our interview be not
overheard,' replied the man. 'As you are fashionable people, I will
introduce myself. Ladies, I am called the Dead Man, and have the honor
to be your most obedient servant. Now to business.'
The Dead Man proceeded to relate those circumstances with which the
reader is already acquainted, connected with his visit to the tomb of
Mr. Franklin, and the manner in which he had come to the knowledge of
that gentleman's murder. He omitted, however, to state that he had shut
up the rector in the tomb, for he firmly believed in his own mind that
Dr. Sinclair had perished.
'You perceive,' said he, when he had finished these details--'it is in
my power to have you hung up at any time. Now, to come to the point at
once--what consideration will you allow me if I keep silent in regard to
this affair?'
'Of course you require money,' remarked Josephine, who was disposed to
treat the matter in as business-like a manner as possible.
'Why--yes; but not money alone,' replied the Dead Man, with a horrible
leer;--'you are both devilish handsome, and I should prefer to take out
a good portion of my reward in your soft embraces. You shudder ladies;
yet would not my arms around those fair necks of yours be pleasanter
than an ugly rope, adjusted by the hands of the hangman? You will one
day admit the force of the argument; at present I will not press the
matter, but content myself with a moderate demand on your purse. Oblige
me with the loan--ha, ha!--of the small trifle of one thousand dollars.'
After a moment's consultation with her daughter, Mrs. Franklin left the
room to get the money from her _escritoire_. The door had scarcely
closed upon her, when the Dead Man advanced to Josephine, caught her in
his arms, despite her resistance, imprinted numberless foul kisses upon
her glowing cheeks, her ripe lips, and alabaster shoulders. It was a
rare scene; Beauty struggling in the arms of the Beast!
The lecherous monster did not release her until he heard her mother
returning. Mrs. Franklin handed to him a roll of bank-notes, and said--
'There is the amount you asked for and you must grant that you are
liberally paid for your silence. I trust that you will consider the
reward sufficient, and that we shall see you no more.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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