New York: Its Upper Ten and Lower Million

by George Lippard

These were the Madam's watch-dogs. They formed the police of the mansion. One slept while the other watched, and when any little difficulty occurred, they settled the matter without noise. Whether they knew all the secrets of the Madam's mansion, or only regarded it as one of the many haunts of vulgar infamy, which infest New York, does not yet appear.

"Slung-Shot or Dirk, is now on the watch, in the basement room, next the cellar. Suppose I manage to force the bars of one of these windows,—I enter the basement room,—am confronted by one of the bullies. If I escape the dirk and the slung-shot, I may be handed over to the police, and sent to the Penitentiary on a charge of burglary. In the latter case, I will remain in the Tombs while the 25th of December passes, and thus escape all hope of participation in the settlement of the Van Huyden estate."

It did not take long for Dermoyne to come to a determination.

"True, after all, Barnhurst may be innocent, and Madam Resimer may have nothing to do with the affair. But I cannot remain any longer in this state of harrowing suspense. I will to work,—and at once."

For a moment, he surveyed the street, and you may be sure, that his gaze was keen and anxious. No one was in sight; all was breathlessly still.

Arthur drew from beneath his cloak an iron bar, with which he had provided himself. It was a square bar, about two inches in thickness, and as many feet in length. Next, fixing his gaze on the central window of the cellar, he ascertained that it was protected by three upright bars, separated from each other, by a space of six inches. These bars, scarcely more than an inch in thickness, were inserted into solid pieces of granite, which formed the top and base of the window-frame. Could he displace them from their sockets, by means of the bar which he carried?

Again, he glances up and down the street. Not a soul in sight. He cast an upward glance, over the wall of the house,—still closed in every shutter, and sullen as a vault. He crouched beside the window and began to use his iron bar. It required all the force of his almost supernatural strength, to bend the central bar, but presently it was accomplished. It yielded and was forced from its sockets. Then, resting the iron bar which he grasped, against the wall on the left, he forced the second bar from its socket, and in a few minutes, in a similar manner, the third yielded to the force of his powerful sinews. The three fell into the cellar, and produced a crashing sound as they came into contact with some loose boards.

Arthur did not hesitate a moment. Grasping the iron bar, and folding his cloak about his left arm, he crept through the window and descended into the cellar. All was thick darkness there, but a faint ray came from the door which opened into the basement room. Trampling over heaps of rubbish and loose piles of boards, Arthur made his way toward the door, and did not pause a single moment, but flinging his weight against its rough boards, he forced the staple which secured it, and burst it open with a crash.

Then his features were fixed, his eyes flashed, he clutched the iron bar, and advancing one step into the basement room, stood ready for the worst.

A candle, burning fast toward its socket, stood on a pine table, and flung its uncertain light over a small room, with cracked ceiling and rough walls, smeared with whitewash. A coal fire smouldered in a narrow grate.