CHAPTER XLIV.
THE BODY-SNATCHERS.
THE Resurrection Man, the Cracksman, and the Buffer hastened rapidly along the narrow lanes and filthy alleys leading towards Shoreditch Church. They threaded their way in silence, through the jet-black darkness of the night, and without once hesitating as to the particular turnings which they were to follow. Those men were as familiar with that neighbourhood as a person can be with the rooms and passages in his own house.
At length the body-snatchers reached the low wall surmounted with a high railing which encloses Shoreditch churchyard. They were now at the back part of that burial ground, in a narrow and deserted street, whose dark and lonely appearance tended to aid their designs upon an edifice situated in one of the most populous districts in all London.
For some minutes before their arrival an individual, enveloped in a long cloak, was walking up and down beneath the shadow of the wall.
This was the surgeon, whose thirst after science had called into action the energies of the body-snatchers that night.
The Cracksman advanced first, and ascertained that the surgeon had already arrived, and that the coast was otherwise clear.
He then whistled in a low and peculiar manner; and his two confederates came up.
"You have got all your tools?" said the surgeon in a hasty whisper.
"Every one that we require," answered the Resurrection Man.
"For opening a vault inside the church, mind?" added the surgeon, interrogatively.