The Mysteries of London. George W. M. Reynolds. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: George W. M. Reynolds
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 4064066396176
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care on you when you come out—won't we, Tony?"

      "Certainly," replied the Resurrection Man.—"But if you get scented, Harry," he continued, addressing himself to the lad, "as you approach the big house, you must have a run for it, and we shall stay here and leave the rope over the wall for two hours. If you don't come back by that time, we shall suppose that you've either got into some quiet corner of the palace, or that you're taken; and then, whichever happens of these two events, we shan't be of any service to you."

      "One thing I should like you to bear in mind, youngster," said the Cracksman, "and that is, that if you don't pluck up your courage well, and prepare for all kinds of dangers and difficulties, you'd much better give up the thing at once. We don't want you to run neck and heels into a business that you are afeard on."

      "Afraid!" exclaimed the youth, contemptuously: "I shall not fail for want of courage. I have made up my mind to risk the venture; and let the result be what it will, I shall go through with it."

      "That's what I call speaking like a man," said the burglar, "though you are but a boy. Take a drop of brandy before you begin."

      "Not a drop," answered Holford: "I require a clear head and a quick eye, and dare not drink."

      "Well, as you will," said the Cracksman; and he took a tolerably long draught from a case-bottle which he had produced from his pocket.

      He then handed the bottle to the Resurrection Man, who also paid his respects to it with a hearty goodwill.

      "I am ready," said Holford; "there is no use in delay."

      "Not a bit," observed the Cracksman. "Tony and me will help you over the wall in a jiffey."

      By the aid of the Resurrection Man and the burglar, the youth scaled the wall of the Palace Gardens, and ere he dropped upon the inner side, he said in a low but firm tone, "Good night."

      Holford was now within the enclosure of the royal demesne. The evening was very dark; but at a distance the windows of the palace shone with effulgence.

      Thitherward did he proceed, advancing cautiously along, for he knew that there was a piece of water in the pleasure-grounds. This small lake he soon left on his right hand; and he was shortly within fifty yards of the back part of Buckingham Palace.

      At that moment he was suddenly startled by hearing voices close to him. He stood still, and listened. Steps approached, and he heard a gardener issue some instructions to a subordinate. There was a tuft of trees near at hand: Holford had not a moment to lose;—he darted into the thicket of evergreens, where he concealed-himself.

      "What was that?" said the gardener, stopping short.

      "I heard nothing," answered the man.

      "Yes—there was a rustling of those trees."

      "A cat, perhaps."

      "Or one of the aquatic birds."

      All was still, and the gardener, accompanied by his man, proceeded on his way. The sounds of their footsteps were soon lost in the distance; and Holford emerged from his hiding-place. Without any farther alarm he reached the back premises of the palace.

      He now became involved in a maze of out-houses and offices, and was at a loss which direction to take. He was going cautiously along the wall of one of those buildings, when he suddenly ran against a man who was advancing rapidly in a contrary direction.

      "Holloa! who the devil is this?" cried the man; and clutching hold of Holford's collar, he dragged him a few paces, until he brought him beneath a window whence streamed a powerful light. "I suppose you're the new boy that the head-gardener hired this morning?"

      "Yes, sir," answered Holford, gladly availing himself of an excuse thus so conveniently suggested by the error of the man who had collared him.

      "Then mind which way you go in future, young brocoli-sprout," exclaimed the other; and, dismissing the youth with a slight cuff on the head, he passed on.

      Holford hastened away from the light of the window; and, crossing a small court, reached a glass door opening into the back part of the palace. The adventurous lad laid his hand upon the latch: the door was not locked; and he hesitated not a moment to enter the royal abode.

      He was now in a low vestibule, well lighted, and at the extremity of which there was a staircase. In one corner of the vestibule was a marble table, on which lay several cloaks, the skirts of which hung down to the ground. This circumstance was particularly fortunate for the safety of the intruder, inasmuch as he had scarcely entered the vestibule, when the sound of footsteps, rapidly descending the staircase, fell upon his ears. He hastened to conceal himself beneath the table, the cloaks serving effectually to veil his person.

      Two footmen in gorgeous liveries shortly made their appearance in the vestibule.

      "Where did you say her majesty is?" demanded one.

      "In the Roman drawing-room," replied the other. "The Sculpture Gallery is to be lighted up this evening. You can attend to that duty at once, if you will."

      "Very well," said the first speaker; and he left the vestibule by means of a door on the right-hand side, but which door he neglected to close behind him.

      The other servant advanced straight up to the marble table, and, sweeping off the cloaks, threw them all over his left arm. Holford's person was now exposed to the eyes of any one who might happen to glance beneath that table. The domestic was, however, a tall and stately individual, and kept his head elevated. Having taken the cloaks from the table, he slowly retraced his steps up the stairs, and disappeared from Holford's view.

      The young adventurer started from his hiding-place. The door, by which one of the servants had left the vestibule for the purpose of repairing to the Sculpture Gallery, was open. It communicated with a long passage, only feebly lighted. Holford hesitated not a moment, but proceeded in this direction.

      He advanced to the end of the passage, and entered a narrow corridor, branching off to the right, and lighted by lamps sustained in the hands of two tall statues. Again the sound of footsteps fell upon Holford's ears; and he had scarcely time to slip behind one of these statues, when the domestic whom he had before seen enter that part of the building, appeared at the end of the corridor. The servant passed without observing him; and the youthful intruder emerged from his lurking-place.

      He now pursued his way, without interruption, through several passages and rooms, until he reached a magnificent marble hall, at the farther extremity of which were numerous dependants of the palace, grouped together, and conversing in a low tone. Holford instantly shrank back into the passage by which he had reached the hall. Exactly opposite was the entrance to the Sculpture Gallery. To retrace his steps was useless: he determined to proceed. But how was he to cross the hall? A few moments' reflection suggested to him an expedient. He walked boldly across the hall; and his presence excited no suspicion, it being impossible for the dependants collected together at the other end to observe the nature of his garb at that distance.

      He now gained access to the Sculpture Gallery; but there he found no means of concealment. He determined to explore elsewhere, and speedily found himself in a magnificent saloon, adjoining the library, and where he beheld sofas, with the drapery hanging down to the carpet.

      It was beneath one of these downy sofas that the daring intruder into the royal dwelling took refuge; and there, comfortably extended at full length, he chuckled triumphantly at the success which had, up to this moment, attended his adventurous undertaking. We have before said that he was of very small stature; he was moreover thin and delicate, and easily packed away.

      Some time passed, and no one appeared to interrupt the reflections of Henry Holford. Hour after hour glided by; and at length the palace-clock struck nine. Scarcely had the last chime died away, when the folding doors were thrown open, and a gorgeous procession of nobles and ladies entered the apartment. The magnificence of the dresses worn by England's peeresses and high-born dames—the waving plumes, the glittering jewels, the sparkling diamonds—combined with a glorious assemblage of female loveliness, formed a spectacle,