Pelham — Volume 04Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Pelham — Volume 04
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Adventure stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
Never were my ears so stunned. The angry authors in the adventures of Gil
Blas, were nothing to the disputants in the kennel at Charing Cross; we
rowed, swore, slanged with a Christian meekness and forbearance, which
would have rejoiced Mr. Wilberforce to the heart, and we were already
preparing ourselves for a more striking engagement, when we were most
unwelcomely interrupted by the presence of three watchmen.
"Take away this--this--d--d woman," hiccuped out Staunton, "She has sto--
len--(hiccup)--my watch"--(hiccup.)
"No such thing, watchman," hallooed out the accused, "the b--counter-
skipper never had any watch! he only filched a twopenny-halfpenny gilt
chain out of his master, Levi, the pawnbroker's window, and stuck it in
his eel-skin to make a show: ye did, ye pitiful, lanky-chopped son of a
dog-fish, ye did."
"Come, come," said the watchman, "move on, move on."
"You be d--d, for a Charley!" said one of our gang.
"Ho! ho! master jackanapes, I shall give you a cooling in the watch-
house, if you tips us any of your jaw. I dare say the young oman here, is
quite right about ye, and ye never had any watch at all, at all."
"You are a d--d liar," cried Staunton; "and you are all in with each
other, like a pack of rogues as you are."
"I'll tell ye what, young gemman," said another watchman, who was a more
potent, grave, and reverend senior than his comrades, "if you do not move
on instantly, and let those decent young omen alone, I'll take you all up
before Sir Richard."
"Charley, my boy," said Dartmore, "did you ever get thrashed for
impertinence?"
The last mentioned watchman took upon himself the reply to this
interrogatory by a very summary proceeding: he collared Dartmore, and his
companions did the same kind office to us. This action was not committed
with impunity: in an instant two of the moon's minions, staffs, lanterns,
and all, were measuring their length at the foot of their namesake of
royal memory; the remaining Dogberry was, however, a tougher assailant;
he held Staunton so firmly in his gripe, that the poor youth could
scarcely breathe out a faint and feeble d--ye of defiance, and with his
disengaged hand he made such an admirable use of his rattle, that we were
surrounded in a trice.
As when an ant-hill is invaded, from every quarter and crevice of the
mound arise and pour out an angry host, of whose previous existence the
unwary assailant had not dreamt; so from every lane, and alley, and
street, and crossing, came fast and far the champions of the night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account