Pelham — CompleteLytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Pelham — Complete
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Adventure stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
This characteristic witticism was received with great applause; and
Jonson, taking a candlestick from the fair fingers of the exasperated
Mrs. Brimstone, the hand thus conveniently released, immediately
transferred itself to Fib’s cheeks, with so hearty a concussion, that
it almost brought the rash jester to the ground. Jonson and I lost not
a moment in taking advantage of the confusion this gentle remonstrance
appeared to occasion; but instantly left the room and closed the door.
CHAPTER LXXXIII.
‘Tis true that we are in great danger; The greater, therefore, should
our courage be.--Shakspeare.
We proceeded a short way, when we were stopped by a door; this Job
opened, and a narrow staircase, lighted from above, by a dim lamp, was
before us. We ascended, and found ourselves in a sort of gallery; here
hung another lamp, beneath which Job opened a closet.
“This is the place where Bess generally leaves the keys,” said he, “we
shall find them here, I hope.”
So saying, Master Job entered, leaving me in the passage, but soon
returned with a disappointed air.
“The old harridan has left them below,” said he, “I must go down for
them; 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 closet
was the door of some apartment; I leant accidentally against it; it was
only a-jar, and gave way; the ordinary consequence in such accidents, is
a certain precipitation from the centre of gravity. I am not exempt from
the general lot; and accordingly entered the room in a manner entirely
contrary to that which my natural inclination would have prompted me to
adopt. My ear was accosted by a faint voice, which proceeded from a bed
at the opposite corner; it asked, in the thieves’ dialect, and in the
feeble accents of bodily weakness, who was there? I did not judge it
necessary 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 of
pistols, and one of those admirable swords, made according to the modern
military regulation, for the united purpose of cut and thrust. The light
which enabled me to discover the contents of the room, proceeded from
a rush-light placed in the grate; this general symptom of a
valetudinarian, together with some other little odd matters (combined
with the weak voice of the speaker), impressed me with the idea of
having intruded into the chamber of some sick member of the crew.
Emboldened by this notion, and by perceiving that the curtains were
drawn closely around the bed, so that the inmate could have optical
discernment of nothing that occurred without, I could not resist taking
two soft steps to the table, and quietly removing a weapon whose bright
face seemed to invite me as a long known and long tried friend.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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