The Mysteries of London (Vol. 1-4). George W. M. Reynolds
instrument when struck by the latter emitted but little noise.
He then descended into the channel which terminated at the very head of the coffin.
Breaking away the soil that lay upon that end of the coffin, he inserted the chisel into the joints of the wood, and in a very few moments knocked off the board that closed the coffin at that extremity.
The wood-work of the head of the shell was also removed with ease—for Banks had purposely nailed those parts of the two cases very slightly together.
The Resurrection Man next handed up the tools to his companion, who threw him down a strong cord.
The end of this rope was then fastened under the armpits of the corpse as it lay in its coffin.
This being done, the Buffer helped the Resurrection Man out of the hole.
"So far, so good," said Tidkins: "it must be close upon one o'clock. We have got a quarter of an hour left—and that's plenty of time to do all that's yet to be done."
The two men then took the rope between them, and drew the corpse gently out of its coffin—up the slope of the channel—and landed it safely on the ground at a little distance from the mouth of the excavation.
The moon fell upon the pale features of the dead—those features which were still as unchanged, save in colour, as if they had never come in contact with a shroud—nor belonged to a body that had been swathed in a winding-sheet!
The contrast formed by the white figure and the black soil on which it was stretched, would have struck terror to the heart of any one save a resurrectionist.
Indeed, the moment the corpse was thus dragged forth from its grave, the Resurrection Man thrust his hand into its breast, and felt for the gold.
It was there—wrapped up as the undertaker had described.
"The blunt is all safe, Jack," said the Resurrection Man; and he secured the coin about his person.
They then applied themselves vigorously to shovel back the earth; but, when they had filled up the excavation, a considerable quantity of the soil still remained to dispose of, it being impossible, in spite of stamping down, to condense the earth into the same space from which it was originally taken.
They therefore filled two sacks with the surplus soil, and proceeded to empty them in different parts of the ground.
Their task was so far accomplished, when they heard the low rumble of wheels in the lane outside the cemetery.
To bundle the corpse neck and heels into a sack, and gather up their implements, was the work of only a few moments. They then conveyed their burdens between them to the wall overlooking the lane, where the well-known voice of Mr. Banks greeted their ears, as he stood upright in his cart peering over the barrier into the cemetery.
"Got the blessed defunct?" said the undertaker, interrogatively.
"Right and tight," answered the Buffer; "and the tin too. Now, then, look sharp—here's the tools."
"I've got 'em," returned Banks.
"Look out for the stiff 'un, then," added the Buffer; and, aided by the Resurrection Man, he shoved the body up to the undertaker, who deposited it in the bottom of his cart.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer then mounted the wall, and got into the vehicle, in which they laid themselves down, so that any person whom they might meet in the streets through which they were to pass would only see one individual in the cart—namely, the driver. Otherwise, the appearance of three men at that time of night, or rather at that hour in the morning, might have excited suspicion.
Banks lashed the sides of his horse; and the animal started off at a round pace.
Not a word was spoken during the short drive to the surgeon's residence in the Cambridge Road.
When they reached his house the road was quiet and deserted. A light glimmered through the fan-light over the door; and the door itself was opened the moment the cart stopped.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer sprang up; and, seeing that the coast was clear, bundled the corpse out of the vehicle in an instant; then in less than half a minute the "blessed defunct," as the undertaker called it, was safely lodged in the passage of the surgeon's house.
Mr. Banks, as soon as the body was removed from his vehicle, drove rapidly away. His portion of the night's work was done; and he knew that his accomplices would give him his "reg'lars" when they should meet again.
The Resurrection Man and the Buffer conveyed the body into a species of out-house, which the surgeon, who was passionately attached to anatomical studies, devoted to purposes of dissection and physiological experiment.
In the middle of this room, which was about ten feet long and six broad, stood a strong deal table, forming a slightly inclined plane. The stone pavement of the out-house was perforated with holes in the immediate vicinity of the table, so that the fluid which poured from subjects for dissection might escape into a drain communicating with the common sewer. To the ceiling, immediately above the head of the table, was attached a pulley with a strong cord, by means of which a body might be supported in any position that was most convenient to the anatomist.
The Resurrection Man and his companion carried the corpse into this dissecting-room, and placed it upon the table, the surgeon holding a candle to light their movements.
"Now, Jack," said Tidkins to the Buffer, "do you take the stiff 'un out of the sack, and lay him along decently on the table ready for business, while I retire a moment to this gentleman's study and settle accounts with him."
"Well and good," returned the Buffer. "I'll stay here till you come back."
The surgeon lighted another candle, which he placed on the window-sill, and then withdrew, accompanied by the Resurrection Man.
The Buffer shut the door of the dissecting-room, because the draught caused the candle to flicker, and menaced the light with extinction. He then proceeded to obey the directions which he had received from his accomplice.
The Buffer removed the sack from the body, which he then stretched out at length upon the inclined table, taking care to place its head on the higher extremity and immediately beneath the pulley.
"There, old feller," he said, "you're comfortable, at any rate. What a blessin' it would be to your friends, if they was ever to find out that you'd been had up again, to know into what skilful hands you'd happened to fall!"
Thus musing, the Buffer turned his back listlessly towards the corpse, and leant against the table on which it was lying.
"Let me see," he said to himself, "there's thirty-one pounds that was buried along with him, and then there's ten pounds that the sawbones is a paying now to Tony for the snatch; that makes forty-one pounds, and there's three to go shares. What does that make? Threes into four goes once—threes into eleven goes three and two over—that's thirteen pounds a-piece, and two pound to split—"
The Buffer started abruptly round, and became deadly pale. He thought he heard a slight movement of the corpse, and his whole frame trembled.
Almost at the same moment some object was hurled violently against the window; the glass was shivered to atoms; the candle was thrown down and extinguished; and total darkness reigned in the dissecting-room.
"Holloa!" cried the Buffer, turning sick at heart; "what's that?"
Scarcely had these words escaped his lips when he felt his hand suddenly grasped by the cold fingers of the corpse.
"O God!" cried the miscreant; and he fell insensible across the body on the table.
CHAPTER CIX.
THE STOCK-BROKER.