With these words Markham continued his way up Brick Lane; but the Resurrection Man was again by his side in a moment. "You refuse to assist me?" he muttered in a hoarse and savage tone. "I do. Molest me no further." "You refuse to assist me?" repeated the villain, grinding his teeth with rage: "then you may mind the consequences! I will very soon show you that you will bitterly--bitterly repent your determination. By God, I will be revenged!" "I shall know how to be upon my guard," said Markham. He then walked rapidly on, without looking behind him. The Resurrection Man stood still for a moment, considering how to act: then, apparently struck by a sudden idea, he hastened stealthily after Richard Markham. CHAPTER XLIII. THE MUMMY. The district of Spitalfields and Bethnal Green was totally unknown to Markham. Indeed, his visit upon the present occasion was the first he had ever paid to that densely populated and miserable region. It was now midnight; and the streets were nearly deserted. The lamps, few and far between, only made darkness visible, instead of throwing a useful light upon the intricate maze of narrow thoroughfares. Markham's object was to reach Shoreditch as soon as possible; for he knew that opposite the church there was a cab-stand where he might procure a vehicle to take him home. Emerging from Brick Lane, he crossed Church Street, and struck into that labyrinth of dirty and dangerous lanes in the vicinity of Bird-cage Walk, which we alluded to at the commencement of the preceding chapter. He soon perceived that he had mistaken his way; and at length found himself floundering about in a long narrow street, unpaved, and here and there almost blocked up with heaps of putrescent filth. There was not a lamp in this perilous thoroughfare: no moon on high irradiated his path;--black night enveloped every thing above and below in total darkness. Once or twice he thought he heard footsteps behind him; and then he stopped, hoping to be overtaken by some one of whom he might inquire his way. But either his ears deceived him, or else the person whose steps he heard stopped when he did. There was not a light in any of the houses on either side; and not a sound of revelry or sorrow escaped from the ill-closed casements. Richard was bewildered; and--to speak truly--he began to be alarmed. He remembered to have read of the mysterious disappearance of persons in the east end of the metropolis, and also of certain fell deeds of crime which had been lately brought to light in the very district where he was now wandering;--and he could not help wishing that he was in some more secure and less gloomy region. He was groping his way along, feeling with his hands against the houses to guide him,--now knee-deep in some filthy puddle, now stumbling over some heap of slimy dirt, now floundering up to his ankles in the mud,--when a heavy and crushing blow fell upon his hat from behind.