A moan succeeded his agonising cry—and he fell heavily upon the floor. Vitriol Bob then jumped upon him—and the attenuated form of the wretched old man writhed beneath the heavy feet of the murderous ruffian.
There was a faint and stifling appeal for “Mercy! mercy!”—but the miscreant silenced it with a ferocious stamp of his heel on the mouth of the dying man;—and in a few moments all was over!
Vitriol Bob was now alone, in the gloomy, cheerless place, with the crushed and disfigured corpse of him whom he had literally trampled to death.
But scarcely was the deed accomplished, when a noise, as of gravel thrown from the street against the kitchen window, fell upon the ears of the murderer, whose countenance instantly expanded into an expression of grim delight at the well-known signal.
“Here’s Pig-faced Poll!” he exclaimed hastily: and then he paused to listen again.
At the expiration of about a minute the signal was repeated; and Vitriol Bob, no longer harbouring the slightest doubt, hurried up the stairs to open the street-door.
CHAPTER CLXXVI.
SCENES IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE.
At five-and-twenty minutes past ten, on this eventful night, Mrs. Mortimer entered the narrow lane leading from the Blackfriars Road into Collingwood Street.
We have already stated that she had persuaded herself into a belief of Jack Rily’s fidelity towards his partner or pal in any enterprise: nevertheless, she could not help wishing that the business in hand was over—and she mentally exclaimed more than once, as she threaded the lane, “Would that to-morrow morning were come!” But she had such a powerful inducement to proceed in the affair at any risk, that the idea of retreating was discarded each time it faintly suggested itself; and when Jack Rily made his appearance, punctually to an instant, she felt her courage worked up to such a pitch that it was difficult to decide whether it arose from entire confidence or utter desperation.
“So, here you are, my fine old tiger-cat,” said the doctor, grasping her hand, with a force that might have been very friendly, but was not the less painful on that account. “I thought you would not flinch: indeed, I made sure you’d come to the scratch.”