The Mysteries of London, v. 3/4Reynolds, George W. M. (George William MacArthur)
General
The Mysteries of London, v. 3/4
Reynolds, George W. M. (George William MacArthur)
London (England) -- Fiction; Penny dreadfuls
"At length the day of liberation came—and I had no plan of proceedings
settled. My clothes were given to me, and a shilling was put into my
hand by the steward. The old schoolmaster was absent at the time; and I
was sorry that I had not an opportunity of thanking him for all his
kindness and imploring his advice how to proceed. It struck me that I
would appeal to the commander of the hulk. I did so, and solicited him
to counsel me how to get an honest livelihood. He burst out laughing in
my face, exclaiming, 'I suppose you think I am to be deceived by your
humbug, and that I shall put my hand into my pocket and give you
half-a-guinea to see your way with. No such thing, my lad! I used to do
so when I was first here; but those I assisted in that way were always
the first to come back again.'—And he turned on his heel, leaving me
quite astounded at the reception my sincerity of behaviour had
experienced. But a few moments' reflection showed me that I could
scarcely blame him for his conduct; and I quitted the ship in tears.
"The moment I stepped from the boat that landed me in Woolwich, I met
Mrs. Bunce. She threw her arms round my neck, and called me her '_dear
Jacob_,' in such a loving manner that one would really have believed her
to be my aunt, or even my mother if she had chosen to represent herself
so. Then, pointing to a public-house at a little distance, she said,
'Your good and kind friend Mr. Bones is there; and he will be so
delighted to see you. He has ordered a nice steak and some good ale, and
we mean to let you enjoy yourself.'—The idea of having such a glorious
repast after being kept on short commons on board the _Euryalus_, made
my mouth water; but then I remembered all the influence Old Death had
been accustomed to exercise over me—and I knew that if I once again
entered within its range, I should never have the moral courage to
withdraw from it. So my mind was made up; and suddenly darting down a
bye-street, I was beyond Mrs. Bunce's view in a twinkling. I heard her
shrill, screaming voice call after me; but I heeded it not—and hurried
onward, as if escaping from a wild beast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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