[The House by the Church-Yard by J. Sheridan Le Fanu]@TWC D-Link bookThe House by the Church-Yard CHAPTER XCVIII 30/31
He placed it under the bed, and waited until the first call of the turnkey was over, and then he stuffed his surtout into the flue of the small fire-place, which afforded the only ventilation of his cell, and so was smothered.
It was not till the winter following that the gaoler discovered, on lighting a fire there, that the chimney was stopped.
He had a misgiving about the charcoal before, and now he was certain.
Of course, he said nothing about his suspicions at first, nor of his discovery afterwards. So, sometimes in my musings, when I hear of clever young fellows taking to wild courses, and audaciously rushing--where good Christians pray they may not be led--into temptation, there rises before me, with towering forehead and scoffing face, a white image smoking his pipe grimly by a plutonic fire; and I remember the words of the son of Sirach--'The knowledge of wickedness is not wisdom, neither at any time the counsel of sinners prudence.' Mr.Irons, of course, left Chapelizod.
He took with him the hundred guineas which Mr.Dangerfield had given him, as also, it was said, a handsome addition made to that fund by open-handed Dr.Walsingham; but somehow, being much pressed for time, he forgot good Mistress Irons, who remained behind and let lodgings pretty much as usual, and never heard from that time forth anything very distinct about him; and latterly it was thought was, on the whole, afraid rather than desirous of his turning up again. Doctor Toole, indeed, related in his own fashion, at the Phoenix, some years later, a rumour which, however, may have turned out to be no better than smoke. 'News of Zekiel, by Jove! The prophet was found, Sir, with a friend in the neighbourhood of Hounslow, with a brace of pistols, a mask, a handful of slugs, and a powder-horn in his pocket, which he first gave to a constable, and then made his compliments to a justice o' the peace, who gave him and his friend a note of commendation to my Lord Chief Justice, and his lordship took such a fancy to both that, by George, he sent them in a procession in his best one-horse coach, with a guard of honour and a chaplain, the high-sheriff dutifully attending, through the City, where, by the king's commands, they were invested with the grand collar of the order of the hempen cravat, Sir, and with such an attention to their comfort they were not required to descend from their carriage, by George, and when it drove away they remained in an easy, genteel posture, with their hands behind their backs, in a sort of an ecstasy, and showed their good humour by dancing a reel together with singular lightness and agility, and keeping it up till they were both out of breath, when they remained quiet for about half an hour to cool, and then went off to pay their respects to the President of the College of Surgeons,' and so forth; but I don't think Irons had pluck for a highwayman, and I can't, therefore, altogether, believe the story. We all know Aunt Rebecca pretty well by this time.
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