Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (310 page)

 
[*The porter]
 
that the Traveller is the only
one out; and you will conduct our new guest to the strangers' ward. Lieges and
friends, good-night."
    The king withdrew; the other gipsy-chiefs dispersed to
their dormitories; and Skilligalee proceeded to conduct the Resurrection Man to
the room where he was to sleep.
    If any doubt had remained in the mind of Anthony
Tidkins relative to the identity of the Margaret then in that house with the
Margaret whom he sought, it would have been dispelled by the mention of the
name of Skilligalee — a name which had occurred in the Rattlesnake's
history of her life. The Resurrection Man immediately comprehended that she had
fallen in with her old companion.
    Skilligalee lighted a candle, and led the way up
stairs. On the first floor, he looked into the porter's lodge, which was
immediately over, and corresponded in size with, the lobby below.
    "Trap-faker, old fellow," he said, "the
Traveller is out late to-night but I suppose he means to come back. He's the
only one abroad."
    "All right," returned the porter: "I'll
attend to him."
    Skilligalee then conducted the Resurrection Man up
another flight of stairs, and into a room which Tidkins knew, from what had
been already said, to be immediately over the one where Margaret
 
Flathers slept. Skilligalee left
the Resurrection Man a candle, wished him good night, and retired to the room
in which he slept.
    The moment the Resurrection Man was alone, his hideous
countenance threw aside its constrained composure, and assumed an expression so
truly fiend-like, that, had a spectator been by, it must have inspired
sentiments of terror. Like every greedy and avaricious man, he entertained the
most ferocious hatred against the person who had robbed him of his treasure; — and
now that the means of revenge were within his reach, together with a hope of
recovering his gold, (for he resolved to converse with the Rattlesnake ere he
killed her), he experienced that kind of demoniac joy which invariably
characterises the triumph of the ruffian.
    Beneath the rough upper coat which the Resurrection Man
wore, he had a pair of loaded pistols; and in his pocket he carried a
clasp-knife, with a blade as long, pointed, and sharp as a dagger.
    Thus, armed to the very teeth, as it were, — and
moreover endowed with that reckless kind of daring which we have seen him
exercise on so many different occasions, — the Resurrection Man was
as desperate and formidable a villain as any Italian bravo that ever wielded
the elastic steel of Milan, or any Spanish bandit whose hand was familiar with
the bright blade of Abaceta.
    An hour passed away; and profound silence reigned
throughout the Palace in the Holy Land.
    The Resurrection Man, with a candle in his left hand,
and his right ready to grasp a weapon of defence, stole cautiously from his
room.
    He descended the stairs, and proceeded to the apartment
in which the Rattlesnake slept.
    The door yielded to his hand — and he entered
the chamber.
    it was a large room, with twelve mattresses spread upon
the floor; but only one of the beds was occupied — and that was by
Margaret Flathers.
    The intended victim slept.
    Anthony Tidkins approached the bed, placed the candle
upon the floor, knelt down, and bent over the bolster.
    "Margaret! " he said, in a low tone, giving
her a gentle shake by the shoulder at the same time.
    She opened her eyes; and at the same moment the
Resurrection Man clapped his hand tightly upon her mouth. But this precaution
was unnecessary; for, without it, profound terror would have sealed the lips of
the affrighted woman.
    "If you cause an alarm," muttered the
Resurrection Man, in a low but hoarse and dogged tone, "I'll cut your
throat that minute. I want to speak to you; and if you tell me the truth I will
do you no harm."
    The Rattlesnake clasped her hands together, and cast a
glance of the most humble and earnest supplication up into the countenance of
the demon whose sudden appearance — there — and at the
still hour of night — leaning over her in so menacing a manner, and
with dark resolve expressed in his foreboding face, — had struck such
terror to her inmost soul.
    "Now, mind," added the Resurrection
Man, — "one word to disturb the house — and you
die!"
    He then withdrew his hand from her mouth; but she
scarcely breathed more freely. Her alarm would not have been of a more
appalling character, had she awoke to find herself encircled in the horrible
coils of a boa-constrictor.
    "You see, Margaret," continued Tidkins,
"no one can escape me: sooner or later I fall in with those who thwart or
injure me. But we have not much time for idle chattering. In one word, what
have you done with the money you stole from me"
    "The gipsies have got it all," answered the
woman, scarcely able to articulate through intense terror; "but a part of
it is mine whenever I choose to claim it."
    "Who has got it? Where is it kept?" demanded
the Resurrection Man, speaking in a low and sullen whisper.
    "The king of the gipsies."
    "What — the old fool with a white
beard?"
    "The same."
    "And where does he keep it, I say?"
    "I have been told that the bag containing the a
gipsies' treasure is always placed under his bolster."
    "Are you sure of that?" asked the
Resurrection Man.
    "Certain," was the reply: and now Margaret
Flathers began to breathe more freely; for she thought that the object of the
terrible individual present was not to kill her, but to obtain back his gold.
    "Has any of it been spent?"
    "No — no," answered the
Rattlesnake, eagerly; although she well knew that a third had been already
divided between the royal family, the Traveller, and
Skilligalee — those being the persons who had found her asleep
beneath the tree, and possessed themselves of her treasure in the first
instance.
    "Do you know where the king, as you call him,
sleeps?" proceeded the Resurrection Man.
    "Yes — I am acquainted with every nook
and corner of this place." replied Margaret, her presence of mind
gradually returning to her aid.
    "But he does not sleep alone," said the
Resurrection Man: "I know all about that. How many men occupy the same
room with him?"
    "Only his son Morcar."
    "Are they armed?"
    "No," answered the Rattlesnake; "they
have nothing — or fancy they have nothing — to fear: this house
is so well guarded!"
    "Now listen," said the Resurrection Man,
after a pause: "I have no time to waste in words. Will you conduct me to
the room where this king of yours sleeps, and help me to get back my gold? or
will you have your throat cut this minute?" And as he uttered these
terrific words, he coolly drew his clasp-knife from his pocket.
    "Oh! put away that horrid thing, and I will do all
you tell me!" said the Rattlesnake, clasping her hands again together,
while a cold shudder passed over her entire frame.
    "Well — I don't want to do you any
harm," returned Tidkins, with difficulty suppressing a sardonic smile.
"But I warn you, that if you attempt any treachery, I will shoot you upon
the spot without an instant's hesitation, let the consequences be what they
may."
    And this time he showed her the butt-ends of his
pistols in the side-pocket of his rough coat.
    "You need not threaten me, Tony," said the
woman, endeavouring to assume an insinuating tone; but the dark scowl with
which the Resurrection Man surveyed her as she thus addressed him, instantly
checked that partial overture towards reconciliation and confidence.
    "None of that nonsense with me, Meg,"
whispered Tidkina; "it has deceived me before. But I warn you! So now jump
up and lead the way to the king's room."
    The Resurrection Man rose from his kneeling posture
over the bed, which. as our readers have
 
been already informed, was made
up on the floor; and Margaret Flathers got up.
    "Shall I dress myself? " she said.
    "What for? You don't think that you're going away
with me — do you? No, no: I shall leave you in the excellent company
which you have chosen for yourself, and with, your friend Skilligalee."
    The Rattlesnake made no reply; but she marvelled how the
Resurrection Man became acquainted with so many particulars concerning her
companions.
    "Take the light, and go first," said the
Resurrection Man; and, pulling off his heavy shoes, he prepared to follow her.
    Margaret Flathers took the candle in her hand, and led
the way cautiously to the room in which Zingary and Morcar slept.
    The door was a-jar — and she entered,
followed by the Resurrection Man.
    The king and Morcar were fast asleep in their beds,
which were also spread on the floor.
    The Resurrection Man drew a pistol from his pocket, and
advanced to the head of the king's couch.
    The Rattlesnake remained in the middle of the room,
holding the candle.
    Tidkins cautiously introduced his hand beneath the
bolster; and, to his inexpressible joy, his fingers came in contact with a bag
evidently containing no small quantity of coin.
    By the sudden flash, of delight which overspread his
countenance, the Rattlesnake perceived that her words had not misled him; and
she rejoiced in her turn — for she had dreaded the consequences of
any disappointment experienced on his part.
    A difficult task yet remained for the Resurrection Man
to perform: he had to draw the bag, as gently as he could, from beneath the
king's head. At one moment a horrible idea entered his
imagination; — he thought of cutting the old man's throat, in order
to abstract the treasure without molestation. But then, there was the other man
who might happen to awake! Accordingly he abandoned this horrible scheme, and
commenced his task of slowly removing the bag.
    But just at the moment when this difficulty seemed
entirely overcome, Morcar started up in the next bed, and uttered a loud cry.
    The candle fell from the hands of the Rattlesnake, and
was extinguished. Availing himself of the darkness into which the room was thus
suddenly plunged. the Resurrection Man seized the bag, and darted towards the
door.
    But scarcely had he set foot in the adjacent passage,
when the deep tones of a bell suddenly boomed throughout the house; and the
notes of the tocsin were instantly responded to by the clamour of voices and
the rushing of many persons from the various rooms to know the cause of the
alarm.
    The entire house was now in confusion: the alarm, which
Morcar rang, awoke every one throughout the establishment.
    Meantime, the Resurrection Man had precipitated himself
down stairs, and had already begun to unbolt the front door, when lights
appeared, and in another moment he was surrounded by the gipsy chiefs, and
pinioned by them.
    "Villain!" cried Morcar, tearing the bag of
gold from his grasp: "is this the reward of our hospitality?"
    "It's mine — and I can prove it,"
thundered the Resurrection Man. "But let me go — I don't want to
hurt any of you — and you needn't hurt me."
    "Ah! that voice!" ejaculated the Traveller,
who had just reached the bottom of the stairs as Tidkins uttered those words:
then, before a single arm could even be stretched out to restrain him, he
rushed with the fury of a demon upon the Resurrection Man, and planted his long
dagger in the miscreant's breast.
    Tidkins fell: a cry of horror broke from the gipsies;
and the Traveller was instantly secured.
    "He is not dead — but he is dying,"
exclaimed Morcar, raising the Resurrection Man in his arms.
    "Tell him, then," cried the Traveller, in a
tone of mingled triumph and joy, — "tell him that the man who
was transported four years ago by his infernal treachery has at length been
avenged, — tell him that he dies by the hand of Crankey Jem!"
    These words seemed to animate the Resurrection Man for
a few moments: he made an effort to speak — but his tongue refused to
articulate the curses which his imagination prompted; and, turning a glance of
the most diabolical hatred upon the avenger, he sank back insensible in the
arms of Morcar.
    The gipsies conveyed him up stairs, and placed him on a
bed, where Aischa, who, like many females of her race, possessed no
inconsiderable amount of medical knowledge, immediately attended upon him.

THE SECRET TRIBUNAL

    HALF AN hour after the occurrences just
related, a strange and terribly romantic scene took place at the Gipsies'
Palace in Saint Giles's.
    The principal room on the ground-floor was lighted up
with numerous candles. At the head of the long table sate King Zingary, clad in
a black robe or gown, and wearing a black cap upon his head.
    The gipsies, who had all dressed themselves in the
interval which had occurred since the alarm, were seated at the
board, — the men on one side, the women on the other.
    Aischa alone was absent.
    At the lower end of the table sat Margaret
Flathers, — her countenance deadly pale, and her eyes wildly glancing
upon those around her, as if to inquire the meaning of this solemn conclave.
    Skilligalee's
 
[sic, ed]
 
was also present; but his looks
were downcast and sombre.
    Such an assembly, in the middle of the night, and
succeeding so rapidly upon the dread incidents which had already occurred, was
enough to strike terror to the soul of Margaret Flathers; for she knew that
this meeting, at which so much awful ceremony seemed to preside, bore some
reference to herself.
    At length Zingary spoke.
    "Margaret," he said, in a solemn tone,
"you are now in the presence of the secret tribunal of the united races of
Zingarees. Our association, existing by conventional rules and laws of its own
making, and to a certain degree independent of those which govern the country
wherein we dwell, has been compelled to frame severe statutes to meet extreme
cases. One of our customs is hospitality; and you have seen enough of us to
know that we ask but few questions of those who seek our charity or our
protection. It necessarily happens that persons who so come amongst us, learn
much of our mode of life and many of our proceedings. But the basest
ingratitude alone could reward our generous
 
hospitality with a treacherous
betrayal of any matters, the communication of which might militate against our
interests. Although we have no sympathy and no dealings with the thieves and
rogues of this great metropolis, we never refuse them the security of this
establishment, when accident or previous acquaintance with its existence leads
them to seek the safety of its walls. This conduct on our part has been pursued
upon grounds of generosity and policy; — generosity, because we
believe that half the criminals in existence are rather the victims of bad laws
than of their own perverse natures; — policy, because we wish to keep
on good terms with all orders and classes who live in violation of the law. It,
how ever, behoves us to adopt as much precaution as possible against treachery,
and to punish treachery where we detect it, and when the perpetrator of it is
in our power. With this view the secret tribunal was instituted at the same
time that this establishment was first opened, more than a century ago.
Margaret, you are now in the presence of that tribunal, and you are accused of
treachery and ingratitude of the very blackest dye."
    This address was delivered with a solemnity which made
a deep impression upon all present. No slang phrases, no low synonyms
disfigured the language of King Zingary. He spoke in a manner becoming the
chief of a vastly ramified association which had made laws for the protection
of its own interests.
    Margaret surveyed the aged individual who thus
addressed her, with wild astonishment and vague alarm. But so confused were her
ideas that she could not make any reply.
    "What are the facts of this case?" continued
King Zingary, after a pause: "you, Margaret, are discovered by us one
morning, sleeping in the open air, and nearly dead with the cold. You have a
treasure with you, which we might have appropriated altogether to ourselves,
but a third of which has been held at your disposal — yours at any
time you might choose to demand it. You come amongst us; you are treated by us
with even more than usual attention and kindness; and you are allowed to
associate with our wives and daughters without the least restraint. A fortnight
scarcely elapses, when you conduct a robber into my room, and point to him the
place where he may find the treasure belonging to the association."
    Hear me — hear me!" ejaculated Margaret,
now recovering the power of speech; "hear me — and I will
explain all."
    "Speak," said the king.
    "I am not guilty of premeditated
ingratitude," continued the Rattlesnake: "I awoke in the middle of
the night, and found a fiend in human shape hanging over me. That man was the
one whom I had been so anxious to avoid — of whom I was so afraid. I
admit that I had robbed him of the gold which you found with me; but I was not
bound to tell you that before now. Well — I awoke, and he was hanging
over me! How he came into the house, you best know; how he knew that I was an
inmate of it, I cannot explain; how he discovered my room is also a mystery.
Nevertheless — he did find me out; and with dreadful threats of
instant death he made me lead him to your apartment to get back his gold. That
is the whole truth."
    A smile of incredulity played upon the lips of Zingary.
    "Why did you not give the alarm, when once you
were in my chamber?" he demanded. "Even if I am old and feeble, was
not Morcar there? and could you not in one moment have summoned the others to
your aid, by touching the bell-rope within your reach?"
    "And, had I done so, that instant would have been
my last. The fearful man, whom I obeyed, would have shot me dead on the
spot," answered the Rattlesnake.
    "And do you not know how to die rather than betray
your companions?" asked the king.
    "I am but a woman — a weak woman,"
exclaimed Margaret; "and — oh! no — no — I
could not die so horrible a death!"
    "Our women would die in such a cause," said
Zingary; "and those who join us and live with us must learn our customs
and our habits."
    "Remember how sudden was the appearance of that
man — how awful were his threats — in the middle of the
night — and a knife, I may say, at my very throat — "
    "It is a most extraordinary thing, that the very
man whom you so much dreaded should have happened to seek our hospitality
within a fortnight after you had joined us. Am I wrong if I entertain a
suspicion in that respect? You knew that the bag, which every night was
deposited beneath my head, contained not only the greater part of the gold
which you brought us, but also the year's contributions from the tribes and
districts: you knew all this, because we had no secrets from you. Then,
perhaps, you were tired of our company; and you imagined that it would be an
easy thing to make your peace with that man whom you so much feared, by putting
him in possession of a larger treasure than the one you plundered from
him, — a treasure, too, which you might hope to share with him."
    "As I live, that was not the case!" cried the
Rattlesnake, energetically. "You know that I have never stirred out of
this house once since I first crossed the threshold: how, then, could I
communicate with that man?"
    "Where there is a will, there generally is a way,
Margaret," answered the king. "Have you any thing further to urge in
your defence?"
    "I have told the truth," replied the woman;
"what more can I say?"
    "Then you may retire," said Zingary.
    Two gipsy-men led her from the room; and those who
remained behind proceeded to deliberate upon the case.
    The whole affair was viewed in an aspect most
unfavourable to the Rattlesnake; and when Skilligalee volunteered an argument
in her defence, he was reminded that he only sate at that board by sufferance,
because he was known to be faithfully attached to the Zingarees, but that he
was not one of either race.
    When the question had been duly discussed by the Secret
Tribunal, the king put the point at issue to the vote — Guilty, or
Not Guilty.
    The decision of the majority was "Guilty."
    The Rattlesnake was then ordered to be brought back to
the room.
    When she again stood in the presence of her judges,
Zingary addressed her in the following manner
    "This tribunal, Margaret, has duly deliberated
upon the case in which you are so especially interested. The result of that
deliberation is, that you are found guilty of the blackest treachery and
ingratitude. The founders of this tribunal wisely ordained that it should only
pronounce one penalty in all cases which terminated in convictions, and that
penalty is one which does not enable the criminal to return to the world to
seek at the hands of the
 
country's tribunals redress for
what such criminal might deem to be an injustice practised by this court. That
penalty is death!"
    "Death!" wildly screamed Margaret Flathers:
"oh, no — you would not, could not murder me in cold
blood!"
    "Death," solemnly repeated
Zingary; — "death In the usual manner, according to the laws
which this Tribunal was instituted to dispense."
    "Death!" again cried the unhappy woman,
scarcely believing what she heard: "no — it is impossible! You
will not kill me — you cannot cut me off so soon! I am not prepared
to die — I have led a wicked life, and must have time to repent.
Spare me! But — do not keep me in this dreadful suspense! Oh! I can
understand that you wish to strike me with terror — to read me a
terrible lesson. Well — you have succeeded! Expel me from your
society — thrust me out of your house; but — "
    "Remove her," interrupted Zingary, firmly;
but at the same time a tear trickled down his countenance.
    The two gipsies, who had before led the Rattlesnake
from the room, now dragged her forcibly away; while her piercing screams struck
to the hearts of those who heard them.
    "When is the sentence to be executed?! inquired
Skilligalee, in a subdued and mournful tone.
    "Within the hour," answered the king.
"You may converse with her up to the fatal moment."
    Skilligalee bowed, and left the room.
    "Let the Traveller be now introduced," said
Zingary.
    Crankey Jem, against whom, the reader may remember, the
Resurrection Man had turned Crown evidence at the same sessions of the Central
Criminal Court at which Richard Markham and Eliza Sidney were tried and
condemned, — was now brought into the room.
    "You have conducted yourself in a manner
calculated to involve us all in a most serious difficulty," said the king,
addressing this individual; "and we are compelled to rid ourselves of your
presence without delay. You have been treated with hospitality by us: reward us
by maintaining the most profound secrecy relative to all you have seen or heard
since you have been our companion and guest. Depart — and may you
always be ready and willing to serve a Zingaree."
    "I will — I will," answered Jem:
"night and day — in any case — I will risk my life for
one of you. I do not blame you for expelling me; in fact, I should have left
you in the morning of my own accord. London is no place for an escaped convict;
and I shall not be sorry to leave it. But, answer me one question before I go:
is that man dead?"
    "We shall give you no information on that
head," answered Zingary. "Depart, my friend — and trouble
us with your presence no longer. You have gold — and may you
prosper."
    Crankey Jem bowed to the gipsies; and, having thanked
them for their hospitality and kindness towards him, took his departure from
the palace.
    The gipsies retained their seats; but not a word was
spoken by any one present.
    At length the great bell on the staircase was struck
three times. At this signal the king rose and walked slowly out of the room,
followed by the other gipsies.
    The procession moved with solemn pace, and in dead
silence, to the back part of the house, where it descended a flight of stone
steps into a place used as a scullery. There Skilligalee, Margaret Flathers,
and the two gipsy-gaolers who had charge of the criminal, were waiting.
    A single candle burned in the place, and its dim fitful
light rather augmented than diminished the gloom.
    Margaret was absorbed in the most profound grief and
terror; and her mental sufferings were revealed in heart-rending sobs.
    Th. nature of her doom had already been communicated to
her!
    Skilligalee's countenance was ashy pale; but, much as
he felt, he knew the Zingarees too well to undertake the vain task of imploring
their mercy on behalf of the culprit.
    "Is every thing ready?" demanded the king.
    "Every thing," answered one of the
gipsy-gaolers.
    With these words the man opened a massive door leading
into a cellar, at the end of which there was another door, affording admittance
into a second and smaller vault.
    "Margaret," cried the king, in a loud tone,
"your doom is prepared. Brethren, take warning against treachery and ingratitude
from this last act of justice!"
    The two gipsies who had been entrusted with the custody
of the criminal, raised her between them, and bore her through the first cellar
into the interior vault.
    But she uttered not a scream — nor a sob: she
had fallen into a state of apathy bordering upon insensibility, the moment the
rough hands of those men had touched her.
    Skilligalee's lips were compressed; and he evidently
experienced immense difficulty in restraining his feelings.
    Margaret was deposited on a mattress in the inner call:
a loaf of bread and pitcher of water had already been placed upon a shelf in
one corner of the dungeon.
    The door was then closed and carefully bolted.
    The door of the outer cellar was also shut; and thus was
the wretched woman entombed alive.
    But as the procession of Zingarees turned to leave the
vicinity of that fearful scene of punishment, a faint shriek — though
not the less expressive of bitter agony in consequence of its
indistinctness — fell upon the ears of those who had witnessed the
sepulture of a living being.