Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1904-05-20
CHAPTER XIII.

carried many gentlemen of the
first quality hither and yon.
takes this ones measure and sets off at
n tearing pace down to the city, past
the Tower, across the bridge. into
Southwark, back over Southwark, up
to Westminster, to Pimlico, past the
very Pulled Hen, where at this very
moment Sir Robin Mozart himself,
and not his sol disant, sits huddled in
his upper room over fire, cheering his
small soul with dreams Of murder and
love. On to Chelsea and a whirligig
round again to that region which frOths
fOully over to the Thames bank in
Little Boy yard and the jutting, rot
ting. creaking old Dove pier.
This be's a young nobleman," So
liloquized the cabman, "wot's in love
or else Is a-meditatin' ON a-takin' his
own life or a-runnin' away from the
Jews or from his gamin' debts, or I'm
not James Finney. An this here's the
spot for him to be dropped at. The
river most andy, also deep, and h'if
he's bound to make an end Of hisself
no man wot owns boss is as worthy
Of the reward wot'll be published for
the recovery of his lordship's corp as
me-" With which pious reflection the
chaise is brought to sharp standstill,
causing Percy to start from his melan-
chOly and look out bf the pane.
where are we" asks he, not at first,
such is the depth Of his suffering, rec
Ognizing spot with which, as Sir
Robin had been at pains and expense
to have discovered for him, he was
indeed of late most familiar.
This be Dove pier my lord" an
swered James Finney, now descending
from his box and standing respectfully
at the kennel.
"Ha! Yes, to be sure. I'll get outw
He does SO and pays the fare with
such largess as makes Mr.. Finney,
through his tanned hide, almost blush
to take it.
Percy de Bohun is no cowardly Sort
even to think of ending his woes in a
watery grave. He Is merely a brave,
sore stricken young man whose whole
faith and heart have been pinned to
one who has forsaken him forever (as
he Thinks. and, with the instincts Of
his kind, he is glad to be here, away
from mankind or woman either, to get
his grip once more on himself. to fight
out for the last time, he swears, the
wild, Jealous covetousness which is
tugging at his heartstrings, to quell
the tumult in his soul and then to get
back home to his uncle's house like a
Christian and. God helping him, to
lead decent life and a brave life for
king and country in the great new
world across the seas. His eyes are
bent upon the ground. He neither sees
nor hears, nor would heed if he did,
aught about him.
In truth. there is not anything to
hear save the river on it's journey.
But there is something to see-Sir
Robins two desperadoes, a-lurking yon-
der up in the close shadow of the tim
bered tenements which line the pre-
cinct on the side where the oil lamps
shine.
Across the narrow street, where the
budding houses, with their broken
chimneys, rag stuffed windows, flap
ping strings Of bird cages. old clothes
and forlorn archwayS, are deeper in
gloom even than their opposites, there's
ambushed another
Twas indeed Lady Peggy, her heart
IN her mouth, her breath coming fierce
y betwixt her tight shut lips, the
drops standing on her forehead, each
hand grasping pistol ready cooked
and her dark eyes pinned to the two
crouching objects not three yards away
from her. Anon, following the jerks
Of these worthless thumbs as they in
dictate the tall figure with bent head
Still pacing the pier back and forth,
she knows her lover and his doom are
nearing each the other.
VIII high heaven help her?
Her ladyship cannot hear them, il
indeed they speak at all, which Is I'M
likely, the language of such gentry at
such crises consisting usually Of signs.
Luckily for her, the CLINT from the
Three Cups, meager though it be, falls
athwart the cutthroats, who now move
stealthily down the yard toward the
pier, timing their pace SO that they
shall reach t'other side Of the rickety
float when their victim shall attain the
hither. 1t fails out as they have de-
signed, and now not ten PAGES separate
Sir Percy de Bohun from his end when
Peggy darts light footed, having casl
aside her shoes, down her side the ken
mel to the pier, bringing her exactly
behind the murderers
With the slow, precise tread of beings
accustomed to such enterprises, not too
hurried at the performance of a not I'M
savory task, they slip over into Sir
Percy's very wake, Peggy at their
backs, noting now, with her pretty
nose within twelve inches of their cat
like heels, the CLEAN of a dagger in the
hand Of each.
Before she had thought, the two
scoundrels seized Percy from tire rear.
the one clapping his hairy hand over
the games mouth for a gag, the other
grasping the young mans two hands,
which had been hanging idly clasped