DOI Heft:
June 13, 1868
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16881#0261
254
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[June 13, 1868.
CHIKKIN HAZARD.
CHAPTER XXVII.
“ MINE FOR EVER
Tiie waves which had received Joseph when he leapt from the burn-
ing height extinguished such flames as bad already caught his dress,
and carried him to shore.
Thence, after inquiry at Martin’s hut, who had by that time de-
parted with the Lieutenant, he at once betook himself to town,
trusting to the information which he was able to gather on the road
from those who had seen Piel Dornton galloping towards the metro-
polis with a fair burden laid across the horse, as to where Bessy was
j imprisoned.
At first he thought that the best method was to call upon the Lord
Chancellor, and obtain some letters dimissory or a mandamus ; but
on second thoughts he gave up this plan as involving too great a waste
of time and money.
lie soon began to be aware of several people in disguise following
him wherever he went, and once coming round a corner sharply when
he was evidently supposed to have gone the other way, he discovered a
middle-aged man taking off a false nose and a pair of coloured spectacles.
This alarmed him, and in future he only ventured out at night.
One evening he was in St. James’s Park when a gentlemanly man
accosted him, asking him if he wanted “ a little dawg.”
Something about his interrogator’s appearance attracted him, and he
was led, contrary to his usual custom, to enter into a conversation
with the man, and while so engaged they drew near the small summer-
house which was built for the sole use of Royalty some years ago, and
which is still a show place for our country cousins, with its grotesque
pictures, its rich velvet-covered sofas, and Dutch mantel-pieces carved
over with the conquests of the Regent, a special attraction perhaps
being that the entrance is gratis, and it can only be seen on certain
da>s in the year, such days being, among others, if we remember
i right, the twenty-ninth of September, the first of April, the glorious
thirty-first of June, and the aunual commemoration on the same day in
November.
Hence it was not astonishing that Joseph, new to London as he was,
should have expressed his curiosity to visit the interior of the Royal
Arbour.
The man had the pass-key and admitted him. Joseph sat down to
admire wonders in art quite new to him.
It was a hot day, and he complained of thirst. His new acquaintance,
who appeared to be a sort of a metropolitan farmer, offered to procure
Aim a delicious draught of curds and whey straight from the cow.
Joseph accepted, and in another second he was alone.
! He felt in his pocket for the papers, and cursing his own stupidity
. in not having secreted them carefully before, he now, with a dim
intuitive perception of coming danger, sewed them into the heels of his
boots.
Scarcely had he taken this precaution when the man re-appeared,
j bearing a bowl of the grateful beverage.
I After, this Joseph knew no more. He drank, and fell, insensible.
' The full-length portrait of the Ranger opened, and a tall man in a
mask appeared, accompanied by two others in cloaks.
“ Bear him away at once,” said the tallest of the masks, in a tone of
imperious command.
“Where to, Master Dornton?” inquired the man who had
administered the potion.
“ Silence, fool ! ” thundered Dornton, for the Mask was he. “ Your
incautious folly may ruin us.”
“ I beg your honour’s pardon,” replied the man, surlily.
“ Hold your confounded tongue, Jeremy,” said the younger and
shorter Mask, “if you can, or I’ll shoot you as I would a dog.”
“ Nay,” interposed the third, who was stouter and of a more noble
bearing. “ Poor Jeremy means no barm. What say you, Captain
Dornton, whither shall the carrion be borne ? ”
Piel Dornton paused, then in a gloomy voice he gave the command—
“ To the Black Mine of Cwmdgrwrr. Away ! ”
They bore his body among them, Piel Dornton controlling their
movements with a revolver which he ever and anon pointed from one
to another as occasion seemed to require.
To the Black Mine of Cwmdgrwrr, in Cornwall.
Then, as they closed the door and departed, he threw aside his disguise.
“ I breathe again,” he cried. “Mine ! Mine for ever! ”
Then he went to Hanover Square.
Hanover Square !!
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE BLUSH ROSE PATTERN.
In an elegant apartment in Hanover Square sat Elizabeth, the
supposed daughter of Old Martin. She was a prisoner, to all intents
and purposes a prisoner, as much was the statue of George Canning,
which looked sadly down upon the aacient pump below, as if though
they had both been there for years, no one had ever yet had the civility
to ask him to take a drop.
Blackly looked the statue on poor Bessy as she walked to the
window.
She tried to amuse herself with books ; but she could not read. The
piano was her only resource : she was entirely ignorant of the practical
science of music, and did not know one note from another, but she
swept her hands indiscriminately over the keys, and made such music
as perhaps few, even proficient in the art, could have heard unmoved.
Then she surveyed the apartment. It was a gorgeously furnished
room. Chairs of various ornamentation, with figures of sea gods and
small fishes stood out in bold relief, showing the seats to have been >
constructed less for utilitarian than decorative purposes.
The carpet was a rich heavy cut pile of a strange pattern. In the
centre was a large circle, and in the centre of this ring a blush rose.
This attracted her attention, and though she could not in the least
understand the train of thought, she could not help connecting thi&
rose somehow or another with the memory of her, to her, lost Joseph.
The door opened, and Piel Dornton, in an evening dress of the
height of fashion, with large white tie, high collars and tail coat that
swept the floor, entered, gaily.
“ Do not approach me,” said Bessy, flying to the bell-rope.
“ Nay, pretty flutterer,” said Piel, smiling, “ the bells will not
serve thee any more than will those they summon. They are dummies.”
“ But your servants ? ” inquired Bess, sharply.
“ I have none here but dumb-waiters,” was the cold cutting response.
“ Come,” he continued, “ enough of this prudery. Life was made
for love and pleasure ; see where the banquet is prepared,” and drawing
aside a heavy drapery, he discovered to her astonished gaze a table-
covered with a profusion of delicacies, including nuts from Brazil, and
oranges from sweet Seville, with bottles of the richest home-made wines
and ices, which could not have cost one penny less than that exact
sum. Then soft music began to play, and Piel watched its effect upon
her with evident satisfaction.
She permitted him to take her hand.
To lead her towards the banquet.
She trembled: soft aromatic vapours were wafted across the room,
and she sank upon a sofa, feeling that her will was becoming powerless-
in the hands of this terrible being.
“ Joseph ! ” she murmured.
“ Bah ! ” exclaimed Piel. “ Think not of him. He has neglected
you: he is toying at this moment with some lead-begrimed miner’s
daughter.”
“ Has he indeed sunk so low ? ” asked, in a subdued tone, Bess,
whose last remembrance of her lover was as he leapt from the burning
Lighthouse.
“ He has,” replied Piel Dornton, feeling that the fewer words he
used the more powerful would be their force.
“ So much beneath my level? ” she continued more to herself than
him.
“ Sixteen thousand feet beneath the level of the sea,” returned
Piel, gaily. “ Come, he is unworthy of you. To the banquet. Let us
drink his health.” So saying, he filled a jewelled goblet to the brim,
and as the beads sparkled and twinkled on the bosom of the wine of ;
Ginger, he cried aloud, “Joseph, to you I drinkgallant knight,
who would protect thy mistress! ha! ha! Joseph, upon my word,
I should like to see you here ! ”
“ You shall ! ” exclaimed a voice. It came apparently from
The Blush Rose in the centre of the Carpet.
In another instant the pattern had opened, and, shot up by some
unseen force, Joseph stood before them.
Dornton discharged all his barrels at him as he rose, but with such
violence was the impetus from below given that Joseph passed through
the air almost to the ceiling, and down again, before the practised
marksman’s eye could settle upon any one point where he could with
anything like certainty direct his aim.
Bessy ran to him, and clung to him, in his dirty miner’s dress as he
was.
“ Piel Dornton, I come to fetch my bride. Do not stir a step—let
us understand each other.” Dornton listened doggedly.
“ You want the papers which i possess.”
“ I do.”
“ Good : you shall have them.” •
“ How?”
“No matter.”
“ Where?”
“ Here.”
“ Who?”
CC ^ JJ
“ Stay.”
“Yes”
“ When ? ”
“ Now:”
“Or Wait-”
“ Till You get them ? ”
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[June 13, 1868.
CHIKKIN HAZARD.
CHAPTER XXVII.
“ MINE FOR EVER
Tiie waves which had received Joseph when he leapt from the burn-
ing height extinguished such flames as bad already caught his dress,
and carried him to shore.
Thence, after inquiry at Martin’s hut, who had by that time de-
parted with the Lieutenant, he at once betook himself to town,
trusting to the information which he was able to gather on the road
from those who had seen Piel Dornton galloping towards the metro-
polis with a fair burden laid across the horse, as to where Bessy was
j imprisoned.
At first he thought that the best method was to call upon the Lord
Chancellor, and obtain some letters dimissory or a mandamus ; but
on second thoughts he gave up this plan as involving too great a waste
of time and money.
lie soon began to be aware of several people in disguise following
him wherever he went, and once coming round a corner sharply when
he was evidently supposed to have gone the other way, he discovered a
middle-aged man taking off a false nose and a pair of coloured spectacles.
This alarmed him, and in future he only ventured out at night.
One evening he was in St. James’s Park when a gentlemanly man
accosted him, asking him if he wanted “ a little dawg.”
Something about his interrogator’s appearance attracted him, and he
was led, contrary to his usual custom, to enter into a conversation
with the man, and while so engaged they drew near the small summer-
house which was built for the sole use of Royalty some years ago, and
which is still a show place for our country cousins, with its grotesque
pictures, its rich velvet-covered sofas, and Dutch mantel-pieces carved
over with the conquests of the Regent, a special attraction perhaps
being that the entrance is gratis, and it can only be seen on certain
da>s in the year, such days being, among others, if we remember
i right, the twenty-ninth of September, the first of April, the glorious
thirty-first of June, and the aunual commemoration on the same day in
November.
Hence it was not astonishing that Joseph, new to London as he was,
should have expressed his curiosity to visit the interior of the Royal
Arbour.
The man had the pass-key and admitted him. Joseph sat down to
admire wonders in art quite new to him.
It was a hot day, and he complained of thirst. His new acquaintance,
who appeared to be a sort of a metropolitan farmer, offered to procure
Aim a delicious draught of curds and whey straight from the cow.
Joseph accepted, and in another second he was alone.
! He felt in his pocket for the papers, and cursing his own stupidity
. in not having secreted them carefully before, he now, with a dim
intuitive perception of coming danger, sewed them into the heels of his
boots.
Scarcely had he taken this precaution when the man re-appeared,
j bearing a bowl of the grateful beverage.
I After, this Joseph knew no more. He drank, and fell, insensible.
' The full-length portrait of the Ranger opened, and a tall man in a
mask appeared, accompanied by two others in cloaks.
“ Bear him away at once,” said the tallest of the masks, in a tone of
imperious command.
“Where to, Master Dornton?” inquired the man who had
administered the potion.
“ Silence, fool ! ” thundered Dornton, for the Mask was he. “ Your
incautious folly may ruin us.”
“ I beg your honour’s pardon,” replied the man, surlily.
“ Hold your confounded tongue, Jeremy,” said the younger and
shorter Mask, “if you can, or I’ll shoot you as I would a dog.”
“ Nay,” interposed the third, who was stouter and of a more noble
bearing. “ Poor Jeremy means no barm. What say you, Captain
Dornton, whither shall the carrion be borne ? ”
Piel Dornton paused, then in a gloomy voice he gave the command—
“ To the Black Mine of Cwmdgrwrr. Away ! ”
They bore his body among them, Piel Dornton controlling their
movements with a revolver which he ever and anon pointed from one
to another as occasion seemed to require.
To the Black Mine of Cwmdgrwrr, in Cornwall.
Then, as they closed the door and departed, he threw aside his disguise.
“ I breathe again,” he cried. “Mine ! Mine for ever! ”
Then he went to Hanover Square.
Hanover Square !!
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE BLUSH ROSE PATTERN.
In an elegant apartment in Hanover Square sat Elizabeth, the
supposed daughter of Old Martin. She was a prisoner, to all intents
and purposes a prisoner, as much was the statue of George Canning,
which looked sadly down upon the aacient pump below, as if though
they had both been there for years, no one had ever yet had the civility
to ask him to take a drop.
Blackly looked the statue on poor Bessy as she walked to the
window.
She tried to amuse herself with books ; but she could not read. The
piano was her only resource : she was entirely ignorant of the practical
science of music, and did not know one note from another, but she
swept her hands indiscriminately over the keys, and made such music
as perhaps few, even proficient in the art, could have heard unmoved.
Then she surveyed the apartment. It was a gorgeously furnished
room. Chairs of various ornamentation, with figures of sea gods and
small fishes stood out in bold relief, showing the seats to have been >
constructed less for utilitarian than decorative purposes.
The carpet was a rich heavy cut pile of a strange pattern. In the
centre was a large circle, and in the centre of this ring a blush rose.
This attracted her attention, and though she could not in the least
understand the train of thought, she could not help connecting thi&
rose somehow or another with the memory of her, to her, lost Joseph.
The door opened, and Piel Dornton, in an evening dress of the
height of fashion, with large white tie, high collars and tail coat that
swept the floor, entered, gaily.
“ Do not approach me,” said Bessy, flying to the bell-rope.
“ Nay, pretty flutterer,” said Piel, smiling, “ the bells will not
serve thee any more than will those they summon. They are dummies.”
“ But your servants ? ” inquired Bess, sharply.
“ I have none here but dumb-waiters,” was the cold cutting response.
“ Come,” he continued, “ enough of this prudery. Life was made
for love and pleasure ; see where the banquet is prepared,” and drawing
aside a heavy drapery, he discovered to her astonished gaze a table-
covered with a profusion of delicacies, including nuts from Brazil, and
oranges from sweet Seville, with bottles of the richest home-made wines
and ices, which could not have cost one penny less than that exact
sum. Then soft music began to play, and Piel watched its effect upon
her with evident satisfaction.
She permitted him to take her hand.
To lead her towards the banquet.
She trembled: soft aromatic vapours were wafted across the room,
and she sank upon a sofa, feeling that her will was becoming powerless-
in the hands of this terrible being.
“ Joseph ! ” she murmured.
“ Bah ! ” exclaimed Piel. “ Think not of him. He has neglected
you: he is toying at this moment with some lead-begrimed miner’s
daughter.”
“ Has he indeed sunk so low ? ” asked, in a subdued tone, Bess,
whose last remembrance of her lover was as he leapt from the burning
Lighthouse.
“ He has,” replied Piel Dornton, feeling that the fewer words he
used the more powerful would be their force.
“ So much beneath my level? ” she continued more to herself than
him.
“ Sixteen thousand feet beneath the level of the sea,” returned
Piel, gaily. “ Come, he is unworthy of you. To the banquet. Let us
drink his health.” So saying, he filled a jewelled goblet to the brim,
and as the beads sparkled and twinkled on the bosom of the wine of ;
Ginger, he cried aloud, “Joseph, to you I drinkgallant knight,
who would protect thy mistress! ha! ha! Joseph, upon my word,
I should like to see you here ! ”
“ You shall ! ” exclaimed a voice. It came apparently from
The Blush Rose in the centre of the Carpet.
In another instant the pattern had opened, and, shot up by some
unseen force, Joseph stood before them.
Dornton discharged all his barrels at him as he rose, but with such
violence was the impetus from below given that Joseph passed through
the air almost to the ceiling, and down again, before the practised
marksman’s eye could settle upon any one point where he could with
anything like certainty direct his aim.
Bessy ran to him, and clung to him, in his dirty miner’s dress as he
was.
“ Piel Dornton, I come to fetch my bride. Do not stir a step—let
us understand each other.” Dornton listened doggedly.
“ You want the papers which i possess.”
“ I do.”
“ Good : you shall have them.” •
“ How?”
“No matter.”
“ Where?”
“ Here.”
“ Who?”
CC ^ JJ
“ Stay.”
“Yes”
“ When ? ”
“ Now:”
“Or Wait-”
“ Till You get them ? ”