Auriol | Page 8

was
considerably shorter, but broad-shouldered, bow-legged, long-armed,
and altogether a most formidable ruffian. This fellow had high

cheekbones, a long aquiline nose, and a coarse mouth and chin, in
which the animal greatly predominated. He had a stubby red beard,
with sandy hair, white brows and eyelashes. The countenance of the
other was dark and repulsive, and covered with blotches, the result of
habitual intemperance. His eyes had a leering and malignant look. A
handkerchief spotted with blood, and tied across his brow, contrasted
strongly with his matted black hair, and increased his natural
appearance of ferocity. The shorter ruffian carried a mallet upon his
shoulder, and his companion concealed something beneath the breast of
his coat, which afterwards proved to be a dark lantern.
Not a word passed between them; but keeping a vigilant look-out, they
trudged on with quick, shambling steps. A few sounds arose from the
banks of the river, and there was now and then a plash in the water, or a
distant cry, betokening some passing craft; but generally all was
profoundly still. The quaint, Dutch-looking structures on the opposite
bank, the line of coal-barges and lighters moored to the strand, the great
timber-yards and coal-yards, the brewhouses, gasworks, and
waterworks, could only be imperfectly discerned; but the moonlight fell
clear upon the ancient towers of Lambeth Palace, and on the
neighbouring church. The same glimmer also ran like a silver belt
across the stream, and revealed the great, stern, fortress-like pile of the
Penitentiary -- perhaps the most dismal-looking structure in the whole
metropolis. The world of habitations beyond this melancholy prison
were buried in darkness. The two men, however, thought nothing of
these things, and saw nothing of them; but, on arriving within a couple
of hundred yards of the bridge, suddenly, as if by previous concert,
quitted the road, and, leaping a rail, ran across a field, and plunged into
a hollow formed by a dried pit, where they came to a momentary halt.
"You ain't a-been a-gammonin' me in this matter, Tinker?" observed
the shorter individual. "The cove's sure to come?"
"Why, you can't expect me to answer for another as I can for myself,
Sandman," replied the other; "but if his own word's to be taken for it,
he's sartin to be there. I heerd him say, as plainly as I'm a-speakin' to
you, -- 'I'll be here tomorrow night at the same hour -'"

"And that wos one o'clock?" said the Sandman.
"Thereabouts," replied the other.
"And who did he say that to?" demanded the Sandman.
"To hisself, I s'pose," answered the Tinker; "for, as I told you afore, I
could see no one vith him."
"Do you think he's one of our perfession?" inquired the Sandman.
"Bless you! no -- that he hain't," returned the Tinker. "He's a reg'lar
slap-up swell."
"That's no reason at all," said the Sandman. "Many a first-rate svell
practises in our line. But he can't be in his right mind to come to such a
ken as that, and go on as you mentions."
"As to that I can't say," replied the Tinker; "and it don't much matter, as
far as ve're consarned."
"Devil a bit," rejoined the Sandman, "except -- you're sure it worn't a
sperrit, Tinker. I've heerd say that this crib is haanted, and though I
don't fear no livin' man, a ghost's a different sort of customer."
"Vell, you'll find our svell raal flesh and blood, you may depend upon
it," replied the Tinker. "So come along, and don't let's be frightenin'
ourselves vith ould vimen's tales."
With this they emerged from the pit, crossed the lower part of the field,
and entered a narrow thoroughfare, skirted by a few detached houses,
which brought them into the Vauxhall-bridge road.
Here they kept on the side of the street most in shadow, and crossed
over whenever they came to a lamp. By-and-by, two watchmen were
seen advancing from Belvoir-terrace, and, as the guardians of the night
drew near, the ruffians crept into an alley to let them pass. As soon as
the coast was clear, they ventured forth, and quickening their pace,
came to a row of deserted and dilapidated houses. This was their

destination.
The range of habitations in question, more than a dozen in number,
were, in all probability, what is vulgarly called "in Chancery", and
shared the fate of most property similarly circumstanced. They were in
a sad ruinous state -- unroofed, without windows and floors. The bare
walls were alone left standing, and these were in a very tumbledown
condition. These neglected dwellings served as receptacles for old iron,
blocks of stone and wood, and other ponderous matters. The aspect of
the whole place was so dismal and suspicious, that it was generally
avoided by passengers after nightfall.
Skulking