Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

121 страница из 895

He seemed to be a broken, afflicted creature, who was past the meridian of life. His form was bent with premature age or disease—​it was not possible to say which.

This person, who was disguised so completely that his own mother would not have known him, was our hero, Charles Peace.

He had come to see the last of Ned Gregson.

His make-up suggested a Dissenting minister. He seated himself by the side of a tall, thin, serious-looking person, of quiet manners and gentlemanly appearance.

The prison bell began to toll.

Then, as if by presentiment, the crowd became more orderly, the men ceased their jests, and the vendors their cries.

“It is nearly time for the carrying out the final act of the law upon the poor condemned wretch,” said the tall gentleman to Peace. “What must be his feelings now?”

“Ah, sir! the thought is terrible. It is painful to dwell upon. What, indeed, must be his feelings?”

Here he heaved a profound sigh.

“I have never attended an execution,” remarked the other; “and now my heart begins to fail me. I wish I had kept away. And you——”

Правообладателям