The Mysteries of London. George W. M. Reynolds
the Lucifer-match!
'Tis the weapon for us to wield.
How bonnily burns up rick and thatch,
And the crop just housed from the field!
The proud may oppress and the rich distress,
And drive us from their door;—
But they cannot snatch the Lucifer-match
From the hand of the desperate poor!
"The purse-proud squire and the tyrant peer
May keep their Game Laws still;
And the very glance of the overseer
May continue to freeze and kill.
The wealthy and great, and the chiefs of the state,
May tyrannise more and more;—
But they cannot snatch the Lucifer-match
From the hand of the desperate poor!
"'Oh! give us bread!' is the piteous wail That is murmured far and wide; And echo takes up and repeats the tale— But the rich man turns aside. The Justice of Peace may send his Police To scour the country o'er; But they cannot snatch the Lucifer-match From the hand of the desperate poor!
"Then, hurrah! hurrah! for the Lucifer-match;
'Tis the weapon of despair:—
How bonnily blaze up barn and thatch—
The poor man's revenge is there!
For the worm will turn on the feet that spurn— And surely a man is more?— Oh! none can e'er snatch the Lucifer-match From the hand of the desperate poor!
"The baronet suspected that I was the cause of the fire, as I had just returned to the neighbourhood; and he had me arrested and taken before a justice; but there was not a shadow of proof against me, nor a pretence to keep me in custody. I was accordingly discharged, with an admonition 'to take care of myself'—which was as much as to say, 'If I can find an opportunity of sending you to prison, I will.'
"Walmer and its neighbourhood grew loathsome to me. The image of Kate Price constantly haunted me; and I was moreover shunned by every one who knew that I had been at the hulks. I accordingly sold off all the fishing tackle, and other traps, and came up to London with the old Mummy.
"I need say no more."
"And there's enough in your history to set a man a-thinking," exclaimed the waiter of the boozing-ken; "there is indeed."
"Ah! I b'lieve you, there is," observed the Cracksman, draining the pot which had contained the egg-flip.
The clock struck mid-day when Holford entered the parlour of the boozing-ken.
CHAPTER LXIII.
THE PLOT.
"Well, young blade," cried the Cracksman, "you haven't kept us waiting at all, I suppose?"
"And do you fancy that I could wake myself up again in a minute when I had once laid down?" demanded the lad, sulkily.
"Oh! bother to the laying down, Harry," said the Cracksman. "Don't you think me and Tony wants sleep as well as a strong hearty young feller like you? and we haven't put buff in downy[74] since the night afore last."
"Well, never mind chaffing about that," cried the Resurrection Man impatiently: then, having dismissed the waiter, he continued, "Now, about this business at the palace? We must have no delay; and when we make appointments in future, they must be better kept. But I won't speak of this one now, because there's some allowance to be made for you, as you were up the best part of the night, and you ain't accustomed to it as we are. But to the point. How is this affair to be managed?"
"I don't see how it is to be managed at all," answered Holford, firmly.
"The devil you don't," cried the Cracksman.
"Then what was you doing all that time in the palace?"
"Running a thousand risks of being found out every minute——"
"So we all do at times."
"And sneaking about at night-time to find food."
"I think you managed to discover the right place for the grist," said the Resurrection Man, his cadaverous countenance wearing an ironical smile; "for you must recollect that I found you in the pantry."
"And the pantry's a good neighbourhood: it can't be far from where the plate's kept," observed the Cracksman.
"The plate is kept where no one can get at it," said Holford.
"How do you know that, youngster?"
"I overheard the servants count it, lock it up in a chest, and take it up to the apartments of—of—the Lord Steward, I think they call him."
"The deuce!" ejaculated the Cracksman, in a tone of deep disappointment.
"Now I tell you what it is, young fellow," said the Resurrection Man; "I think that for some reason or another you're deceiving us."
"You think so?" cried the lad. "And why should you fancy that I am deceiving you?"
"Because your manners tell me so."
"In that case," said Holford, rising from his seat, "it is not of any use for us to talk more upon the subject."
"By G—d, it is of use, though!" exclaimed the Cracksman. "You shall tell us the truth by fair means or foul;" and he produced from his pocket a clasp-knife, the murderous blade of which flew open by means of a spring which was pressed at the back.
Holford turned pale, and resumed his seat.
"Now, you see that it is no use to humbug us," said the Resurrection Man. "Tell us the whole truth, and you will of course get your reg'lars out of the swag. You told me that the Queen was going to Windsor in a day or two; and that was as much as to say that the affair would come off then."
"I told you the Queen was going to Windsor—and I tell you so again," replied Holford. "But I can't help it if they lock up the plate: and I don't know what else there is for you to carry off."
The Resurrection Man and the Cracksman exchanged glances of mingled rage and disappointment. They did not precisely believe what the lad told them, and yet they could not see any motive which he was likely to have for misleading them—unless it were to retain all the profits of his discoveries in the palace for his own sole behoof.
"Now, Holford, my good fellow," said the Cracksman, shutting up his clasp-knife, and returning it to his pocket, "if you fancy that you are able to go through this business alone, and without any help, you're deucedly mistaken."
"I imagine no such thing," returned Holford; "and to prove to you that I am convinced there is nothing to be got by the affair, in any shape or way, do you and Tidkins attempt it alone together. He found his way to the pantry as well as I did, and can tell you what he saw there."
"That's true," said the Resurrection Man, apparently struck by this observation. "So I suppose we must give the thing up as a bad job?"
"I suppose we must," added the Cracksman, grinding his teeth. "But, by G—d, if I thought this younker was humbugging us, I'd plant three inches of cold steel in him, come what would."
"Thank you for your kindness," said Holford, not without a shudder. "Another time, get some person to act for you whose word you will believe. And now," he continued, turning to the Resurrection Man, "please to recollect the terms we agreed upon—a third of all we could get if successful, or five pounds for me in case of failure."
"Well, I shall keep my word," returned the Resurrection Man.
"Blow