030: Dick Turpin cries "Stand and deliver!" ... the bitter fruit of Lady Edith's secret marriage ... two more ballet-girls threatened with a Fate Worse Than Death! (Mid-Victorian Edition)

Episode Transcript
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(00:06):
A. Tip Top evening to all you Jack
puddings, Kitty asses and nightsof the brush and moon.
I'm your host Finn JD John, known among the traps and drum
quad culls of your neighborhood Roundiken as Professor Flash,

(00:27):
and I'm welcoming you once againback to the Chafing Crib.
Here we are again with the latest offerings of the Penny
Dreadful Story Show podcast. The Penny Dreadful Story Show is
the podcast that carries you back to the sooty, foggy streets
of early Victorian London when the latest batch of the story
papers hits the streets. This week, we're focusing on the

(00:50):
latter part of the Penny Dreadful era from 1861 to 1870
or so, bringing you a foursome of fearful crammers from the
later years of that era, when American style dime novels were
starting to shoulder the old story papers aside a little bit.
Here's what we've got in store for tonight.
First up, we'll hear all about London's favorite highway man,

(01:13):
Dick Turpin in Black Bess, or The Night of the Road by Edward
Viles, which started its run in 1861.
And we've got Chapter 13 for youtoday.
In it, we'll finally get to see Dick Turpin do his legendary
stand and deliver thing. The fellow he robs, though, will
turn out to be a bit of a handful, even for Dick.

(01:34):
Then we've got The Black Band orThe Mysteries of Midnight, which
also started publication in 1861in the hands of Mary Elizabeth
Bradden, the author. And we're reading Chapter 13, in
which the world's stupidest Marquis comes dashing up to Lady
Edith Vandalur's house at midnight, ready to take her away
to the altar. Unfortunately, he's 12 hours too

(01:57):
late. Wonder how that will turn out.
Then we'll spring off into Chapter 13 of Spring Heeled Jack
the Terror of London by Edward Coats, which started its
publication run in 1866. In Chapter 13, we're going to
meet a ballet girl. Yes, I'm afraid so.
Another darn ballet girl. They're pretty popular, just in

(02:20):
the same situation, as well as adashing and dissipated libertine
is stalking her home from the ballet.
Assuming that, like the other ballet girls, she will be
amenable to his billing and cooing and velvet tipping, well,
she's not. But how far do you think he'll
be willing to go to win her love?
And will Spring heal Jack be able to save her in time if he

(02:43):
decides to skip straight to the punch line and subject her to a
fate worse than death? Finally, we'll finish with Rose
Mortimer or The ballet Girl's Revenge, by an anonymous author
who identifies himself only as acomedian of the TR Drury Lane in
1867. In it, we'll meet our noble,

(03:04):
virtuous heroine shrieking for help as a debauched Parson
attempts to ravish her in the street.
Naturally, a brave and hard fisted rescuer appears and saves
the day, and he will become evenmore important later.
We're also going to meet her father, Brute and the criminal
who is actively trying to brokerher favors to the debauched

(03:24):
preacher who attacked her. He is very angry with her for
fighting him off. And who was the tall, dark,
handsome stranger with the fabulous mustache who is
visiting her father? And what could he want?
From the wolfish glance he givesher on his way out, we can
pretty well guess what he wants.So yeah, let's get started.

(03:46):
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Pumpington of Dump Quests cryptocurrency rental agency for
sponsoring this episode. And now it's time for me to
stand and deliver a chapter of Black Bess, or The Night of the
Road by Edward Vile, starring England's favorite highwayman,
Dick Turpin and The Flash. Can't word for Black Bess, but
let's go with Cock your leg and Cry Sugar.

(05:14):
Dick Turpin is here lads. Cock your leg and Cry sugar.
We're sure to have a rare roll time tonight.
You might be able to figure thatone out if you don't already
know it. You might remember it actually,
from the sign off at the end of last week's show.
But let's have our story and I'll explain it afterwards.
And Speaking of our story, in the last episode in Chapter 12
of Black Bess, Dick waited for nightfall and was off and away,

(05:36):
paying no heed to the pleas of Ellen, the young maiden whom he
rescued a few chapters ago from the old fate worse than death
And that mean cap maker Lady's DIY brothel.
But as she pointed out, the grabs are sure to be on the lay
for him. So will he make it to the three
tons to present his prize to thefamily there?
Let's find out right now. Chapter 13 Turpin robs Sir

(06:06):
Theodore Houghton on his way to London.
Gently, Bess gently mare, said Turpin to his steed.
There is no hurry, lass. We have a good four hours before
us. Bess subsided into a gentle
trot, well, thought our hero, ashe carried his hand to his
pocket to make sure the cup was all right.

(06:26):
A few things have happened, certainly, since I took this cup
out of the fat mayor's carriage.But the strangest thing of all,
and the one I cannot banish frommy imagination, is the spectral
shadowy form which I feel convinced I saw in the lane.
What could it be? What can it foretend?
I was a fool not to have ridden forward, he muttered, after a

(06:48):
few moments thought. I will not believe it was
anything supernatural. I was wounded, my brain was
confused and giddy, and I had not that ready command over my
actions that I generally have. Let me catch sight of it again,
and I will chase the figure tillI discover what it is.
His ruminations and resolves were quickly put to flight, for
indistinctly and muffled by the opaque atmosphere, came the

(07:10):
tramp of a horse's hoofs upon his ears.
He paused to listen. He had reached a small open
space, but to cross which he could not see.
He only knew that he was not in the roadway by feeling that Bess
was treading upon turf. The sound of the approaching
footsteps came from the rear. It is a single traveller, said

(07:30):
Dick, and he comes most opportunely.
My pockets are almost empty. It is to be hoped he carries a
good booty. The traveller was approaching
slowly and cautiously, as thoughhe was by no means sure of his
footing. Turp and wheeled round.
Then he quietly waited until theunsuspecting rider should be
close to him. At length, when he judged from

(07:52):
the loudness of the sound that the solitary horseman was at
about 50 paces distant, he gave Bess the reins and swept swiftly
down the lane. Stand and deliver, he cried in
loud tones, and at the same timeheld a pistol to the astonished
rider's breast. Your money or your life?
Neither, you villain, said a voice, And before Dick
anticipated any such event, the rider fired a pistol point blank

(08:15):
at his face. Turpin shook in his saddle.
The pistol had been well aimed. It struck his hat from his head,
and plowed up his scalp in its passage.
Before, however, the traveller could follow up the advantage he
had so undoubtedly gained, Dick recovered himself, and bringing
his weapon to a level, pulled the trigger.
There was a flash and a report. The shot was seemingly

(08:37):
effective, for the traveller uttered a loud cry of pain.
He did not, however, fall from his seat, but preserved an
upright position. Quick, said Dick, your money,
watch and trinkets. You have only yourself to thank
for what you have got. No reply.
Come, come, added Dick. Hand them over, or I shall be
forced to take them. And generally speaking, I am not
over gentle when I do. You have shattered my right arm,

(09:00):
replied the traveller, and I am powerless.
Were it not for that in the excruciating pain it occasions
me, I would struggle with you tothe last.
You can please yourself how muchyou maltreat a wounded man who
cannot struggle with you. Here's your left hand, said
Turpin, leaning forward towards him.
I will, and I do, cried the traveler in an excited voice.

(09:22):
At the same moment Turpin heard the click of another pistol.
It simply flashed in the pan. You are a treacherous Rascal,
shouted Turpin. Take that.
He doubled up his first and struck the Traveler A terrific
blow in the face. He swayed from one side of his
horse to the other, and then, losing his balance, fell to the
ground. I hope that's a settler, said

(09:44):
Turpin. I do hate treachery above all
things. I wonder if he has got much in
his pockets. As he asked himself this
question, he dismounted and stood over the prostate foe, who
lay very still indeed. Turpin shook him rather roughly
as he said. Come now, it's no good your
shamming in that way. I've had enough of it.
An inarticulate sound, either a curse or a groan.

(10:05):
Dick could not tell which was all that he got by way of a
reply, so he added. It's no good losing time, it's
troublesome affair. Very.
I only hope he's got enough about him to make it worth my
while. Let's see, here's a nice watch.
Repeater, I think. Chain and seals, not so bad.
A pocketbook? Not very fat.
A purse, huh? Heavy, too.

(10:26):
Bravo. Breast pin.
Gold, of course. Two rings.
Diamonds, doubtless. Anything else, no.
While uttering these disjointed sentences, Turpin made a
perquisition of his enemy, and, having examined the different
articles which he took, transferred them to his own
pocket. I should very much like to know,
said Turpin, as he rose to his feet, whether I did shatter his

(10:47):
right arm as he said I did so confounded duck, I can't see.
Stop a bit. Yes, I can.
He produced a small bullseye Lantern from his pocket, and, as
his antagonist gave no signs of motion, very leisurely proceeded
to light it. In a moment or two, as the Wick
fairly caught light, he was ableto throw a tolerably broad ray
of light around him. Your face is damaged

(11:09):
considerably, my friend, he said, as he turned the light
full upon the traveler's features, which were covered
with blood. I never gave such a fair blow in
my life. Never.
Then he proceeded to make a moreminute observation.
What a deceitful fellow he must be, to be sure he's not wounded
in the arm. He thought of having me, I dare
say, but he has found his match,and that reminds me to look

(11:31):
after the wound I fancy he gave me.
In my head it's nothing, absolutely nothing.
I don't believe it is blood. A dozen drops.
I shall be none the worse for that, though it was a very
narrow escape. What shall I do with this fellow
now? Leave him where he is in the
middle of the road. Would serve him right.
Ah, did you speak? The traveller certainly did not
speak, but he raised himself up off the ground a little, looking

(11:54):
rueful. And woe begone in the extreme,
villain, he said, as his eyes fell upon Turpent.
You have conquered and robbed me.
I made sure I should put an end to your career.
How kind of you to be sure, and I should have done so if my
infernal pistol had not missed fire.
He continued, for he was recovering rapidly.
Well, why don't you wipe your face?

(12:15):
Can't you feel it's all over blood?
You shall pay dearly for this, my spark, said the traveller as
he wiped his face with his handkerchief.
You won't carry this game on always.
I'm a magistrate. I'd let you know.
Indeed. Yes, and vagrants like yourself
tremble when they hear my name. What is it, Sir Theodore Horton?

(12:35):
Sir Turpin shook his head. Never heard it before.
The magistrate opened his mouth to an unnatural width and token
of his astonishment. Never heard it?
Never. O impossible.
My name is well known everywhereamong the family, I suppose.
The family? Yes, the light fingered
profession. Easy come, easy go.

(12:57):
So do you understand? I do, and I can tell you it is
woe to those who are brought up before me.
And by this time the magistrate had risen to his feet, and was
evidently getting better every moment.
I am unarmed now, he added, or Iwould try what I could do.
I suppose you called it fair play to fire upon me as you did.
Most assuredly everything is fair to a felon like you.

(13:21):
That's your opinion, and everybody else's that's got any
sense? Of course.
Well, now, your worship, said Dick with a mocking air.
It appears by what you've said that you have endeavoured to
make your name a terror to thosewho might be brought up before
you, and to do so you have no doubt unjustly punished many.
And what if I have asked Sir Theodore, preparing to remount

(13:44):
his steed? Why, we will just have a little
bit of retributive or poetical justice upon you.
Remember, you are wholly in my power.
The worthy magistrate glared around in some dismay.
No living thing was either within sight or hearing, and he
rather anxiously waited to hear what Turpin said next.
He was not long kept in suspense, for Dick said, I am

(14:05):
going to a large meeting of the family tonight, and I have
determined you shall go with me.I shall have great pleasure in
presenting you to their notice, and still greater in handing you
over to them to be dealt with according as they think proper.
Of course, letting them know thecowardly and treacherous attempt
you made upon my life. Help, help murder, shouted Sir
Theodore, as Turpin announced this resolution.

(14:28):
Why, they would tear me limb from limb if once they got me in
their clutches. You cannot mean that.
Help mercy, I do mean it, said Turpin, And consider I'm doing
no more than right, and acting in a merciful way towards you,
as you have been so fond of administering punishment to
others. You shall try how you like to
have it administered to yourself.
During this short conversation Turpin had not once let go of

(14:50):
the grasp he had fastened upon him.
And look here, added our hero, do you see this?
It was a long, bright barreled pistol, which he asked him if he
saw. I do.
That's all right. Now listen to me what I am going
to say, and take warning. Are you listening?
Yes, this pistol is 1 by which Iset great store, and I never

(15:11):
produce it or use it except uponextraordinary occasions.
It is made with the utmost nicety, carries a ball to its
mark as true as a hare, and never misses fire.
I wish you to impress that strongly on your memory.
It never misses fire. Now, if you wish to preserve
your life a little longer, obey my directions, or if you do not,

(15:31):
why? He cocked and levelled the
pistol in a manner by far more significant than pleasant.
The magistrate's teeth chatteredwhen he heard the sound, and saw
the weapon brought to bear upon his person.
Now, mount, said Turpin. Sir Theodore obeyed.
Now take off your cravat and tieone end firmly round your right
wrist. The pistols still covered him,

(15:53):
so he perforce obeyed. Turpin snatched up his Lantern
and caught hold of the other extremity of the cravat, having
first assured himself that it was properly secured to his
companion's arm and then mountedon the back of Black Bass.
Quick March, he cried. And bear in mind that the very
first attempt you make to get free, I fire.

(16:17):
Well, that was exciting to thoseof you who have shared my
impatience for the highway robbery to get started.
Well, it looks like author Edward Viles has heard our pleas
for more law breaking action. So here's our boy doing his
highway robber thing, and it's kind of odd.
We're expected to be shocked at the treachery of the traveller
trying to pop Dick with his second hidden pistol, but it

(16:38):
seems to me like defending your stuff isn't technically
treachery. I don't know, maybe it's a
tomato tomato thing. What strikes me about the
interaction though, is the fact that he's literally firing on a
man with a drawn gun while looking down the barrel of the
aforementioned gun. I mean, there aren't very many
Dumber moves you could make in this context.

(17:00):
No matter where you shoot a guy with a flintlock pistol, he'll
live long enough to shoot you back.
Unless you actually get a headshot in, which Sir Theodore
didn't. So he's actually really lucky
his pistol misfired, because if he'd plugged Dick, Dick for sure
would have dedicated the last three seconds of his mortal life
to making sure his killer paid the same toll.

(17:21):
But maybe I'm expecting too muchfrom Sir T.
He really does seem to be a bit of a dummy.
It doesn't take much of A geniusto figure out that when you were
completely in the power of a desperate highway robber whom
you have just done your level best to slab out like a tray of
cold cuts at a garden party. It's just a really bad time to
start in boasting about how you're a magistrate and you know

(17:43):
one of the lads who sits up on high in a powdered wig and sends
forgers and pickpockets off to be hanged on sometimes pretty
scant evidence and for sometimespretty scant crimes.
The guy is probably lucky Dick isn't worse than he is.
A lot of Hwy. robbers in the mid1700s probably would have just
gone. Oh Dang, you know, I can't risk
you surviving this encounter to testify against me.

(18:05):
It basically it's my neck or yours, Judge.
Sorry about that Blam. And well, there you go.
But you know, luckily the pistolmissed fire and Dick wasn't that
sort. Although as it is, he's off to
be the star of the next of the event at the show and tell time
at the family gathering in the next chapter, chapter 14.

(18:26):
We're going to see how that goesfor him after Dick brings him to
the family meeting. And Dick had never heard of him,
but as it turned out, several members of the family have.
And one of them gentlemen, George, they call him, turns out
to have been his old law clerk who was more or less forced to
turn to a life of crime because of Sir Theodore's treachery.
He has a pretty remarkable tale to tell.

(18:48):
I won't spoil it, but I will tell you the chapter name is Sir
Theodore. Turns out a very bad character
indeed. That'll be coming your way too
Saturdays from now when we continue this story.
But now let's move on to our noggin of St.
Giles Greek. Cock your leg and cry sugar.
Decked up in his ear, lads. Cock your leg and cry sugar.
We're sure to have a rare old time tonight.

(19:10):
It's simply a joyful expression,something a Regency or early
Victorian fellow did in lieu of hip hip, Hooray or the like.
You kick out a leg and yell sugar.
I know it sounds a bit weird andmaybe dorky, but look, this is
the same bunch that had regular gangs that meet up at pubs to
sing naughty songs about wenchesand stuff, you know?
What did you expect? Well, that means it's time to

(19:32):
turn our attention to our next Penny Dreadful, The Black Band
or The Mysteries of Midnight by Mary E Bradden.
And Professor Flash's flash phrase for this story is Pockets
to let. Lionel Montfort had pockets to
let last week, but he's oddly Stony now.
Do you know it? Can you dope it out?
I'll explain it at the end of today's Shapitra.

(19:55):
Last week in chapter 12 of the Black Band, we finally met a few
characters we could root for. Clara Melville, a poverty
stricken but aristocratic and lovely young ballet dancer,
waiting outside the ballet and fending off the advances of an
elderly Roue who, as wealthy libertines used to do, hoped to
debauch her. She was rescued by a handsome

(20:15):
cavalier and sent home in a cab to her home, where we met her
father, Jasper Melville, an impoverished aristocrat of some
sort who hinted at a dark secret, and the younger brother
George and baby sister Jesse. Jesse was at death's door with a
raging fever. Everyone was desperate.
Clara was begging her father to let her take her Jesse to a
charity hospital. Proud, Jasper wouldn't hear of

(20:37):
it, but was increasingly torn and desperate, and it was
understood that eventually he would be forced to relent.
His daughter's life hung in the balance.
But then suddenly a visitor knocked imperiously at the door.
It was Laloda Vizzini, the star of the ballet.
She had noticed Clara and heard about Jesse and wanted to take
her and Clara home to nurse Jesse back to health.

(21:00):
Jasper at length relented, and they were off.
Jesse's life was saved, and now in this chapter we shift into
another scene and turn our attention back to Lady Edith in
her gilded cage. Here we go.
Chapter 13. Too late.

(21:23):
Lady Edith Merton sat alone by the fire in Lord Horton's
splendid drawing room, on the night of her private marriage to
the merchant. The vast apartment was dimly
lighted by a shrouded lamp, standing upon a little table by
the lady's side. The corners of the room were
thus left in the shadow. Lady Edith had thrown aside the

(21:46):
book in which she had been endeavouring to read, and sat
with her large dark eyes fixed upon the flame and the gilded
and steel great at her feet. She had attained the object of
her lifelong ambition. She had trampled on her own
heart and the hearts of others. She had cast truth to the winds,
she had laughed purity and virtue to scorn, and she was the

(22:08):
wife of the richest man in England.
But was she happy? 1000 Mocking demons, devouring
her inmost heart, seemed to be forever asking that question.
And what was the answer? No, No, 100 times, and again 100
times. No Unwomanly as she was, she
could not extinguish every sparkof womanly feeling.

(22:32):
She was the wedded wife of the millionaire, and she loved
another man. That other man, Lord Lionel
Montfort, seemed to her all thatwas perfection in mankind.
Handsome, young, generous, ardent, brilliant, accomplished,
fascinating, highborn, but poor,Poor.
Aye, there was the sting. I have done right, she cried.

(22:55):
I suffer, but I have chosen well.
At least I shall be rich. And in this world to be rich is
to be powerful. The gilded clock over the
chimney piece struck 12. While Lady Edith Vandalur was
absorbed in these dark thoughts,to her surprise she heard a
cabriolet dash through the quietsquare and draw up the door
below. Who could it be at such an hour?

(23:18):
Not her father, for the Earl wasengaged at a debate in the House
of Lords, which would last most probably till 3:00 in the
morning, and besides, he always drove to the house in his
chariot, and this was a cabriolet.
Before she could reflect further, a thundering knock
resounded upon the panel of the door.
She heard voices in the hall below, as if an altercation, and

(23:38):
then a rapid footstep upon the stairs, and before the servant
could announce him, Lord Lionel Montfort dashed into the room.
Lady Edith Merton rose to her feet with a cry of agitation and
alarm. Of all the men in the world,
Lionel was the last she wanted to see this night.
Edith. He cried.
Edith, I am here. What is the meaning of this

(24:00):
intrusion at such an unwarrantable hour, Lord Lionel
Montfort? She asked with auteur intrusion.
Edith exclaimed the young man. You call my coming an intrusion.
You ask the meaning of my presence here at such an hour as
this. Have you forgotten the words I
spoke to you in this very room only one short week ago?

(24:21):
Have you forgotten my promise? Can you have forgotten all this?
Your promise? What promise?
She cried wildly. The oath I swore that before the
week was out I would lay wealth and rank entitled and lands all
at your feet. I have kept my oath and I have
come to do so. Lord Lionel Montfort, you are

(24:43):
mad, exclaimed Edith. The late hour, the wildness of
the young man's manner, her own fevered and excited brain, all
combined to bewilder her, and she fancied that he must indeed
have lost his senses. I am no longer Lord Lionel
Montfort. Exclaimed the young nobleman in
strange and solemn tones. I am Lionel, Marquess of

(25:05):
Willoughby. No, no, shrieked the agonized
woman. It cannot be.
It is too horrible. It is true, said the Marquess,
deadly pale and handing Lady Edith an evening newspaper still
wet from the press. Read.
He said, pointing to an account of the death of the late
Marquess. Read Incredulous Woman Lady.

(25:27):
Edith took the paper with a trembling hand and with eyes
that seemed, well, nice, starting from her head, perused
the paragraph to which the mark was pointed.
This paragraph gave a brief description of the finding of
the body of the late Lord Willoughby.
There is some hideous witchcrafthere, muttered Lady Edith.
It can never be true. Edith.

(25:48):
Exclaimed the Marquess. Oh, you have kept my oath.
You will be mine, will you not? The barrier which parted us was
the accursed stain of poverty that is removed, Edith.
You will be mine, Marchioness ofWilloughby.
The wretched woman burst into a loud, hysterical laugh.
Too late, too late, she shrieked.

(26:10):
I was married 12 hours ago to Robert Manton.
She fell on the floor, her wholeframe shaken by violent
convulsions. Heartless demon, cried Lionel.
Slave sold in the market to the highest bidder.
May your life be as accursed as your treachery has made mine.

(26:31):
May your soul be wrecked by the agonies that now consume mine.
May your days be wretched in your nights restless.
May remorse haunt you as a hideous phantom that will not be
driven away, And may every coin of the filthy gold for which you
have martyred your base soul become a separate curse and a
torment to you. Yelling these horrible words

(26:55):
into the tortured ears of the stricken woman, the Marquess of
Willoughby rushed from the room.Lady Edith Merton's maid,
alarmed by the piercing shrieks which penetrated to the upper
story, came to her mistress's assistance.
She found the beautiful but guilty creature stretched
senseless upon the ground. She was carried to her own
apartment, and the family doctorwas summoned to attend her.

(27:19):
When her eyes opened at last, she gazed wildly round the room,
and then closed them again with a horrified shudder.
Why do you seek to call me back to life?
She exclaimed. Why not have pity upon my misery
and abandoned me to die? She is hilarious.
Whispered the maid. This is something more and
something worse than delirium, said the doctor gravely.

(27:42):
It is the mind which is affectedhere.
I can be of very little use Robert.
Merton called in Hanover Square early the next day to see his
bride. He was shocked at beholding the
ghastly pallor of her beautiful face, but she assured him that
there was no cause for alarm. Remember, Robert, she said.
The excitement of yesterday, youcannot wonder that has driven

(28:05):
the roses from my cheeks. Remember what I underwent
through your jealous fancy. My beloved.
He murmured, raising her jeweledhand to his lips.
How can I ever forgive myself for having for one moment
doubted your purity and truth? The Marquess of Willoughby was
an altered man. Whatever inward despair consumed

(28:26):
his proud heart, he kept the secret of his anguish, and
presented a calm face to the world.
Lady Edith and Mr. Robert Mertonwere married a second time by
special license, at the House ofthe Earl of Horton.
The bride looked a queen in her voluminous robes of white satin,
covered with cloud like flouncesof lace of fabulous value.

(28:48):
The bridegroom, trusting and happy, clasped the false woman
to his heart, believing that Heaven had smiled upon his
devoted love, and blessed him bybestowing upon him an Angel in
human form. The proudest members of the
aristocracy were assembled to dohonor to the union of the
wealthy merchant with the lovelydaughter of the pier.

(29:10):
Rank, fashion and beauty, all were there.
The magnificent apartments sparkled with the jewels which
glittered upon the brows, the necks, and the arms of the
assembled guests. Amongst others, the Marquess of
Willoughby was present, dressed in deep mourning for his
brother. People wondered at seeing him,
for it was the first time that he had appeared in public since

(29:32):
the melancholy death of the lateMarquis.
Many were aware, too that Lionelwas an old admirer of Lady
Edith, and they were surprised to find him among the guests at
that splendid wedding. He has come here to show people
that he's not cut up by the affair, murmured one of the
visitors to his neighbor at the wedding breakfast.
He is as proud as Lucifer and wants to convince the world he

(29:54):
has not been jilted. Whether this was or was not the
motive of the Marquis of Willoughby, it was difficult to
say. Calm and haughty, he betrayed no
agitation and revealed no emotion.
He was separated by the crowd ofguests from the bride, and only
once had he the opportunity of speaking to her.
This was as her father, the Earl, was about to lead her to

(30:16):
the carriage which awaited to convey the bride and bridegroom
upon the final stage of the continental tour.
At this moment, when all the guests were crowding round Lady
Edith to bid her adieu, Lord Willoughby advanced from amongst
the rest and addressed the bridein a clear audible voice.
I need scarcely say how much I wish for your happiness, Lady

(30:38):
Edith Merton, he said. I can only repeat the words
which I said to you about three months.
Since the bride turned pale as death and shuddered violently as
the Marquess spoke to her. This agitation is too much for
you, dearest, murmured Robert Merton as he drew Lady Edith
through the crowd and assisted her into the carriage.

(31:00):
The year passed away and anotherseason has commenced at the
Royal Italian Opera, or Her Majesty's Theatre as it is more
usually called. Lalota Vitsini is still the
reigning star of the ballet. She had not forgotten Clara
Melville. The young girl's salary had been
doubled, and she had removed with her father and her little
sister and brother into clean and comfortable lodgings at

(31:22):
Kensington lodgings in a house with a large garden in which
Jesse and little George played half the day through.
The family was a very happy one.Mr. Melville added to the little
store by copying music, and sometimes by translating a book
from the French or the German for some West End publisher who
paid liberally for his work. Clara improved very much in her

(31:45):
dancing, and grew prettier and prettier every day.
The ballet master no longer scolded her or called her
stupid, for he began to feel that she was one of the
ornaments of the theatre, and hedid not wish to disgust her with
the profession which she had never much liked, for hers was
one of those gentle natures madeto adorn the holy circle of a
happy home. Admiration had no charm for her

(32:08):
To find 100 opera glasses levelled at her as she advanced
to the front rank of dancers only distressed and annoyed her.
Instead of turning her head withpleasure and delight, her
companions laughed at her for her retiring disposition.
Upon my word, they would say good naturedly you are the
silliest girl in the world, but certainly no one could be

(32:29):
envious of your pretty face, foryou make so little use of your
beauty. Clara Millville had never seen
Reginald Faulkner since the day on which he had rescued her from
the persecution of Sir Frederick.
Beau Morris, the young man who was an officer in the army, had
been absent from England with his regiment.
Well, happily for Clara, the oldbaronet had been laid up with

(32:50):
gout and kept a close prisoner at his country seat, Beau Morris
Castle in Cumberland. Clara Melville loved Lolota
Vizzini as she had never before loved any living creature except
her father and her little brother and sister, the
Spaniards. Generous kindness had made a
lasting impression upon the young girl's grateful heart and
it was with deep grief that she perceived that her friend and

(33:13):
benefactor was not happy. No beautiful, rich, admired and
courted Lolota Vizzini was stillfar from being a happy woman.
There were dark secrets connected with her past life
which the Spanish dancer revealed to none, not even to
the loving and devoted Clara. No Clara, she would say, ask me

(33:34):
no questions. My story is, after all, a common
1. The old, old story of an idol
raised up by a woman's a foolishheart and found the end to be
the bassist Clay. I have loved, I have been
betrayed and I have suffered. That Clara Melville is the
history of my life. Seek to know no more.
The London season was at its fullest height.

(33:57):
Lady Edith and Mr. Robert Mertonhad not yet returned from their
continental tour, but the Merchant's house in Park Lane
had been redecorated, and all that art, aided by boundless
wealth, could devise had been done to make the mansion a
palace fit for a queen. The Dowager Marchioness of
Willoughby had retired to her country seat, there to hide A

(34:18):
cureless grief. She told her younger and sole
surviving son that dear as he was to her, she could not endure
to see him where the title of the noble boy forever lost to
her. Lionel bowed to his mother's
decision and did all in his power to make her retreat
agreeable. But the silver cord was loosed,
the golden bowl was broken, the sunshine had forever fled from

(34:42):
the world it had once made so beautiful, and the desolate
woman only looked forward to that merciful death which would
reunite her to her beloved son. The Marquess of Willoughby and
Colonel Oscar Bertrand were close friends.
They were constantly seen together, and no party in the
houses of the aristocracy was considered complete unless the

(35:02):
wealthy young Marquess and the fashionable Colonel graced the
assembly. Amongst other places, the
Austrian officer took his aristocratic friend behind the
scenes of Her Majesty's Theatre,to which Colonel Bertrand's
influence and the young nobleman's rank found them easy
admittance. It was the first night of a new
ballet entitled The Vintage of Andalucia, and for the first

(35:25):
time in his life, Lord Willoughby beheld Lolo to
Fitzsimi. Except upon the stage.
The lovely dancer was standing at the side scenes, ready to
bound onto the stage as soon as the crash of the orchestra gave
the signal for her appearance. Her lady's maid was standing
behind her, putting the finishing touches to her
mistress's costume. Lolota was dressed in a pure

(35:47):
white gauze and with a real and valuable leopard skin looped
across one shoulder and a luxuriant crown of grapes and
vine leaves encircling her dark hair.
She was surrounded by a group ofadorers as the Marquess
approached one of them, holding her magnificent bouquet and
carrying a costly Indian shawl over his arm.

(36:08):
She looked up as Lord Willoughbydrew near the group, and the
eyes of the Marquess and the dancer met.
Is there in the wonderful magnetism of some glances?
What is it that sends a thrill into the soul, a shiver through
the heart as we gaze upon some faces?
Who can answer such questions asthese?
And again, who can avoid sometimes asking them?

(36:29):
The Southern blood burned in theSpanish dancer's cheek.
A soft mist veiled her beautifuleyes.
Who is that man? She asked hurriedly of the
gentleman who carried her shawl.Tell me, Captain Mortimer, who
is that man Yonder? She repeated, indicating the
Marquess, who was talking to a group of gentlemen a few paces
off by 1 flash of her brilliant eyes.

(36:52):
Oh, that's Lord will be. Said Captain Mortimer.
And a devilish, lucky fellow he is too.
He gad he was as poor as jobless.
Than a 12. Month ago and then his brother
died. He dropped into a cool 40,000 a
year. Lolota made no reply, but
remained silent with her eyes fixed upon the profile of the
young Marquess, which was turnedtoward her as he stood.

(37:15):
Surely, Madame Busini, you're not fascinated by that fellow
Willoughby? Said Captain Mortimer, who was a
devoted admirer of the Spanish dancer and never tired of
following her about. Surely, after turning a deaf ear
to all of us, you're not going to fall in love with the
Marquess. Captain Mortimer said Lolota
haughtily. You are impertinent.

(37:36):
Loloda Vizzini can protect herself even though her husband
may not be here to protect her. That's where.
That's where the shoe pinches. Said the captain to a
confidential friend some time afterwards.
Lovatozini has some mysterious husband hidden away somewhere or
other, and it's my opinion he has treated her badly.

(37:57):
If I only knew where to put my hand upon the ruffian, I'd
thrash him with an inch of his contemptible life.
When Lovota. Vizzini came off the stage after
a terrific burst of applause which greeted the conclusion of
one of her dances. She found the Marquis standing
at the wing. She was laden with the bouquets
which had been thrown her and was almost hidden under the heap

(38:17):
of exotics which she carried. Well, that's it for the black
band. This week's chapter was super
interesting to me because this is the second secret wedding
we've seen. I remembered reading something
about this having at one time been a real problem.
So I looked it up and sure enough, a sort of epidemic of

(38:38):
clandestine weddings where basically you hired A penureus
clergyman to officiate and got it done in the middle of the
night so that nobody except the two of you and the clergyman
knew that you were married. This was super convenient for
folks who needed to get hitched on the cheap.
So that was all right. You know, kind of like going to
Reno or Vegas today if you're a fellow ungrateful colonial or I

(38:59):
don't know if Gretna Green is still a wedding destination
place for you old country folks,but maybe something like that.
But it was also popular with characters whose lifestyle made
it possible for them to maintainmultiple marriages in different
parts of the realm, maybe under different names, names like
Philip Darcy and dare I suggest,Antonio Vizzini.

(39:21):
An actual law passed in 1753 specifically to address this.
It specified that you had to either obtain a marriage license
or publish bans, and the weddinghad to take place during normal
church business hours, which basically meant after breakfast
and before tea. It also stipulated that the
bride had to be at least 21 years old, unless bans were
published and the parents didn'tobject during the time given for

(39:43):
them to do so. And marriages that didn't comply
with these specs were declared void.
So yeah, if these midnight secret weddings weren't actually
fraudulent, and at least one of them clearly was the other one,
if it wasn't, it definitely would have had that flavor.
Neither one of these brides was over 21, I'm pretty sure, which
is kind of the major point. So maybe if Lord Lionel had

(40:05):
checked with a lawyer, he might have saved everyone some
trouble. Now, you might ask, why the heck
did people bother with a clandestine bigamous marriage at
all? Why didn't, if they didn't
intend for the public to know about it, why not just pretend
to be married? Well, of course it was to
bamboozle young girls. Look at Ellen Clavering.
If Philip Darcy had said to her,Ellen, my sweet, be mine,

(40:26):
tonight we'll pretend we are married, she probably would have
had the presence of mind to slaphim, even though she was mild
and meek and 16. But by offering this fraudulent
marriage ceremony, Philip was able to get what he wanted
without committing himself in any meaningful way.
And Yep, that gets to the heart of the clandestine marriage
problem, and the reason the state felt like it had to step

(40:49):
in. Because one of the most popular
uses of clandestine marriages was so that the predatory men
could hornswoggle young naive girls into thinking that now
that they were married women, itwas OK for their husband to
sleep with them. Many of this kind of marriage
were bigamous or trigamous or quintagenous or octagonous or
however you pronounce those words, if they exist.

(41:11):
No doubt as soon as the 16 year old blushing bride found herself
pregnant, her 35 year old cavalier would hop the twig,
leaving her in a rather precarious position.
We shall see if this happens to Clara.
Hopefully not, but at the same time, you do have to admit that
the idea of a secret midnight marriage has a certain romantic
sizzle to it, right? There's even a great old song

(41:32):
about it. Hey baby, let's go to Vegas, bet
on love, and let it ride. But apparently enough libertines
and Rakes were abusing this system that it had to be cracked
down on. And at the end of this chapter I
see that I am in a fairway to soon learn if my pet fan theory
is correct, and that Lolo to Fitsini's magical mystery
husband is in fact Colonel Mephistopheles himself.

(41:55):
Since Lord Lionel, Brothers Baneclearly has hopes that she will,
with apologies to the late and legendary Laura Branigan, catch
him on the rebound. Since Mephistopheles and
Brothers Bane are constant companions, sooner or later
there will be an encounter and we'll find out if I'm right.
We'll get some good stuff next week.
In the next chapter, chapter 14,which is actually quite

(42:17):
eventful, we're going to see Lady Edith Merton returning from
her continental honeymoon with her new husband, miserably
wallowing in her luxury and pining for her fratricidal dream
boat, who for some reason visitsher house a lot.
Then one day Colonel Oscar Bertrand comes by to see her,
and tells her that he's there onbehalf of Lord Lionel, who still

(42:37):
Pines after her and hopes that she will dissolve her marriage.
And how is she to do that? Let's get it straight from the
horse's mouth, shall we, Lady Edith Martin?
For such a marriage as yours there is but one divorce, and
that is death. Gentle reader, you know Colonel

(42:59):
Mephistopheles too well by now to doubt for an instant that he
is ready and willing to place inthe hands of his pretty newlywed
victim the means with which she might arrange for such a divorce
as that. I'll leave the details to be
disclosed in good time in our next chapter, reading 2
Saturdays from now when we continue this story.
Before we miss Loft, though, what does the pocket stilette

(43:21):
thing mean? Well, vinyl, that pocket
stilette last week, but he's oddly Stony now.
It means broke, as in pockets are empty.
You might as well rent them out.Stony also means broke, although
it's later Victorian slang. I'm not sure they were actually
using it in the 1840s, but then they weren't reading This
dreadful in the 1840s either, because it came out in 1861.

(43:41):
So maybe now it's time to bound into our next chapter of Spring
Hill Jack. The Terror of London by Alfred
Coats and the Flash Can't for Spring Hill Jack is virtue
rewarded. Slippery Dick got his virtue
rewarded prigging wedge from some tulips.
Gentry can give it a guess. After the story, we'll circle

(44:02):
back to it. Last week in Chapter 12 of
Spring Hill Jack, we caught up with Jack as he was taking a
little breather after his churchyard caper, lighting a
cigar and acting natural. Then suddenly, someone darted
past him, sprinting toward London Bridge.
It was Ellen Folder, the poor seamstress whose bundle Joe
Filcher filched. Hurrying towards eternity.

(44:25):
Jack realized she was determinedto cast herself into the black,
filthy waters and quit the cruelworld forever.
Would he be able to save her from the bitter fruits of her
temporary madness? Alas, he forgot to ditch his
mask, so the minute he touched her shoulder, she speed on on
pinions of fear. And her shrieks attracted a
defender, a brave, noble fellow down on his luck who tried to

(44:47):
grapple with Jack. In the end, Jack was a second
too late, but he sprang in afterher.
And when last we saw him, he wasplunging into the black and
filthy river, determined to saveor be lost.
Will he be able to save her? We'll see.
But not today. No.
We're cutting away to another story.
You know how Edward Coats is with these cliffhangers.

(45:09):
So, yeah. So here's this week's chapter,
coming at you right now. Chapter 13 The Ballet girl and
her Persecutor An outrage and a protector.
The curtain had fallen. The house was in all but

(45:31):
darkness. The long tiers of boxes had been
covered with canvas to save their curtains from the dust,
and but a few remained in that home of the drama which short
time before had been filled frompit to ceiling and resounded to
the shouts of laughter, the loudapplause of the strains of the
orchestra. Yes, the theater was deserted by

(45:52):
all but a few, and that few weremembers of the corps de ballet
who had hurried away to their dressing rooms to change the
gauze and spangles for the cotton and the stuff, to wash
the paint and powder from their faces, those pale, Wan cheeks on
which consumption, want, and wretchedness were in far too
many instances depicted. Young girls and matrons were

(46:15):
among them, the mother and the courtesan, the innocent and the
pure, the lost and the fallen. But all were hurrying to leave
the precincts of the building, some to return to their homes
and families, some to adjourn tothe coffee and oyster rooms,
some to the wash tub and the needle, and others to.
But let us not be uncharitable to a class whose struggles for

(46:37):
existence are indeed great and hard to bear, whose calling
brings down upon them too often the unmerited contempt of more
fortunate sisters, and whose every act, look, and word are
misconstrued by those prudish dames who can see no goodness in
a public life but for the stage.How many a poor girl would

(46:57):
starve at her needle, or faint at the ironing board?
And but for the few shillings obtained by joining the corps de
ballet, how many a child would ask in vain for food of its
mother? How many a poor Wretch would
find a home in the parish workhouse, or an existence in
the public streets? But there are a few, and where's

(47:17):
the calling that will not produce them, whose natural
inclinations lead them into a life of debauchery and sin?
Do not condemn the poor ballet girl as the lowest grade of
womanhood, for in every calling and at every stage there are
frail sisters and unfortunate women.
But with these we have nothing to do.

(47:37):
We leave them to the serpent tongues of their own
uncharitable sex, and will follow only one, a pure,
innocent, beautiful girl, out ofthe room where she has changed
the gauze for the homely Muslim Dylan, the wreath for the little
hat and feather, the scarf for the warm, the much worn jacket.
She was anxious to return home where her mother awaited her

(47:59):
presence. That mother she had taken to the
stage to assist to keep from thecommon home of the aged poor the
workhouse. And with a light step she
hurried through the stage door into the street.
And as she perceived the figure of a man respectably attired
waiting by the wall of the theatre, she averted her gaze
and hurried along at a quick, nervous pace, muttering inwardly

(48:22):
there again. Oh, why does he seek to force
his presence upon me? Heaven grant, he may not see me,
and that I may tonight escape his odious advances.
But there was no such good fortune in store for the poor
ballet girl. The man saw her, and instantly
stepped forward to oppose her passage.
His appearance in his costume betokened that he was at least

(48:45):
well to do in the world. But the lines on his face, now
brought out clearly by the street lamps, stamped him as one
to whom debauchery was a portionof his life.
Features that otherwise would have been handsome were defiled
by the traces of late hours and overindulgence.
In fact, libertine was stamped there as plainly by Nature's

(49:05):
hand as it was possible to be. Oh well, my dear.
He said familiarly. You have not kept me waiting so
long tonight. Oh, the delight with which I
watched you in the ballet. I had not a single glance for
another. My whole thoughts were centered
upon you. Sir, replied the girl, Pray

(49:26):
allow me to pass. My mother will be anxious till I
return. Why so coy?
Come now, you know I admire you.And night after night you will
persist in forcing yourself uponme, said the girl, as the tears
rose to her eyes and she steppedoff the path into the roadway in
order to endeavour to pursue hercourse.

(49:47):
I cannot understand such conduct.
It is unmanly to thus pursue a poor girl who wishes to have
nothing to say to you. It is because you are poor that
I take so much interest in you. Said the man.
I thank you, but I must decline to hold any further conversation
with one who is to me a stranger, said the girl.
That I am so is not my fault, said the young man.

(50:11):
I have long endeavored to becomebetter acquainted with you.
I have no desire that such should be the case, was the
remark. And no, Sir, be good enough to
understand that I cannot listen further to you, and I trust that
you have not so far forgotten the meaning of the word
gentleman as to molest me further, either on this night or
any other, when returning from my professional duties.

(50:33):
Suffer me then, to see you in the daytime.
He said quickly. It cannot be.
Why not? We are strangers.
A few hours in each other's society will remove that
barrier. But I have no wish for your
society, she said. Give me a reason.
Her positions in the world are evidently so different.

(50:55):
What of that? Much, very much.
You're evidently rich. I am poor.
Very poor. That makes no difference to me.
To me it does. Nonsense.
Just a foolish pride that would induce you to scorn the love of
the man who could place wealth at your feet, change your

(51:16):
poverty stricken home to 1 of splendor and make your life of
toil one round of pleasure and happiness.
The girl sighed and endeavoured to pass on her way.
The libertine, however, shifted his position and put forth his
hand to stay her. Do not flee from mevas, he said.
Me, Sir, I must go. Stay but one minute.

(51:39):
My mother waits anxiously for myreturn home, she said.
No anxiously, as I have waited to see you here, he said.
Come, do not flee for me as though I were some terrible
monster. Grant me a minute's speech.
What can you, a stranger, have to say to me?
Nothing that I can hear, I have.Listen, from the first moment I

(52:03):
saw you, my heartbeat with a strange sensation towards you.
Then you were habitat in your fairy garb and your natural
beauty enhanced by the appliances of the costumes.
Art. Never did I see a being so
beautiful as you. Your loveliness has enchained my

(52:24):
heart, made it your captive. From that moment I resolved to
throw aside all distinctions of position and rank and fortune,
and strive to win the love of her who had already won mine.
The curtain fell on the fairy group.
I hurried to the stage door to await your coming.

(52:45):
I recognized you in an instant, for the promptings of my breast
pointed out, though so changed in garb the woman I sought, the
beauty I had so admired on the stage was still retained when
off the boards, and if anything,my heart yearned more strongly
toward you than ever. May let me pass, cried the girl.

(53:05):
May hear me till the end, he continued.
I love you. Would take you from this life
which I know is distasteful to you, would surround you with
wealth and splendor, study your every wish, make you the envy of
thousands. This will I do.
Now will you be mine? Dare I believe you?

(53:26):
You May you love me, I do. A stranger whom you know not
even by name. A poor girl whom poverty is
driven to seek a livelihood by acalling which merits the jeers
and contempt of half the world. Even so, for I heed not that.
He replied, taking her hand in his own and looking into her

(53:47):
pale face. And you would rescue me from
this life, place me in a home ofsplendour and plenty.
I would. And what return do you ask for
this? She asked slowly and pointedly,
fixing her liquid eye upon his face with a penetrating and
inquiring glance. What return can I ask?

(54:08):
He said. I what?
She replied. Your love, my love, Yes, my
heart, Even so. And my hand.
The libertine did not reply. Speak, man, she said
imperiously. Do you seek to make me your
wife? Yes, yes, that is but.

(54:31):
But what? She cried, tearing her hand from
his hold and drawing herself proudly up before him, her eyes
flashing with an indignant fire and her pale face suffused with
a blush of shame. My dear, speak and speak truly.
Do you pursue me with the desireto make me a happy, honourable
wife or only a Libertines mistress?

(54:52):
She cried almost furiously. The man's features underwent A
perceptible change as she spoke,and his tones were low and
stammering as he said. You.
Do not understand you. I do understand you, the motives
which brought you to persecute me night after night on my way
home from the theater to my home.
I do understand you, Sir, but now understand me.

(55:14):
I know the calling I pursue is looked upon as one who holds
among its voter is only the lostand fallen of the female sex,
poor girls who can be induced topurchase existence and splendor
at the price of honor. You are one who believe us all
such, but you are mistaken. All are not fallen.
All are not purchased by golden promises or caught by gilded

(55:35):
baits. Stand aside and let me pass.
I can read your hopes and desires in your face.
You have mistaken the poor ballet girl who scorns your
offers and spawns with the contempt they deserve your
disgusting promises. My.
Charmer be gone, Sir, and leave me to pursue my way in peace to
my poor but honorable home, she said, thrusting him

(55:57):
contemptuously aside and passingon with quick steps.
Nay, listen but a moment, He exclaimed.
I have already listened too long.
You refuse an offer thousands would be proud to accept.
He continued, walking on by her side.
I scorn an offer which every honourable right minded woman

(56:19):
would look upon with loathing and disgust, she replied.
You are mad. I am true.
The life you now lead cannot last forever, he said.
Youth and beauty will soon fade,and then what lies before you
but the poor house? The knowledge that I did not
sell happiness and fame for a libertine's gold.

(56:40):
And your mother, Have you no care for her when you see her
starve or die in a workhouse, when you might administer to her
every want and smooth the declining hours of her existence
with all those comforts wealth? Would bring, he said, looking
with a sidelong glance to see the effect of his words.
Do you think she would purchase comfort at the price of her

(57:02):
daughter's shame? Asked the girl in a pained tone.
She need not know, it need not, no, you could tell her you were
wetted and add lies to my other sins.
Oh, they would be excusable in such a case, said the.
Libertine, thank you. My looks, my words would not
betray the fearful truth. Oh man, man, how are you

(57:25):
falling? She said sadly in increasing her
speed. Oh, girl, how foolish you must
be, he said, to do battle with alife of poverty, because the
world says we shall not follow the bent of our inclinations.
Those who would condemn the loudest, would the suitest be
guilty of that which they blame in others.

(57:45):
But what would be the opinions of others to you?
Would you lose friends? No, for wealth would make them
for you tenfold. Gold will hide 1000 sins and
make you respected where povertyonly brings you contempt.
Speak no more, but leave me I. Have followed you too long.
I cannot lose you now your. Words are poison to my ears and

(58:10):
daggers to my heart. If you have one spark of manly
feeling, you will let me proceedalone, she said, bursting into
tears by. Heaven I pity as well as love
you, he cried. Love that is impossible.
Why impossible? Because.
Love is a pure and holy. Passion, was the reply then do I

(58:30):
love? You would you lead me to the
altar? Of love, yes.
Would you make me your wife? I would make you mine holy mine,
he replied quickly. But would you make me a wife?
As custom and the law only recognize the term, I would make
you that which if not. In the sight of man, at least in

(58:52):
the sight of God, would be a wife.
And yet you profess to. Love me, cried the girl.
Oh, shame, shame upon you. I am poor and wretched, but the
position you offer me would but embitter my miseries, plunge me
to despair, Bow the Gray hairs of her who gave me being with
shame and sorrow to the grave. Sure.

(59:15):
Most would be a momentary pang. He seized her hand and held it
firmly. He bent his head down and looked
into her flushed face. He saw the tears trembling on
her eyelids, the nervous twitching of the muscles of her
mouth. From these he augured well for
his own base course. He bent his head still lower.
His lips almost touched her ear.Girl, he said in a whisper.

(59:39):
Be mine and I will heap gold at.Your feet with which you can
make a bright existence for her who now waits for the paltry
pence which you have earned to buy her bread away with all
prudish thoughts. You shall be my wife in all but
name. Hesitate no longer, whisper, but
your consent and be mine. Had an adder stung her, she

(01:00:02):
could not have. Started back with greater
terror, she tore her hand from his grasp with a violent jerk.
She stood gazing on him with frowning brow and compressed
lips proudly erect. She stood defiantly.
Contemptuous was her mean. Then her lips parted, and one
word alone issued from between them.
It came in a Husky, half hissingwhisper, and that word was

(01:00:25):
scoundrel. Then she turned and fled.
The libertine stood for several moments gazing after her pretty
figure. Then he started off in pursuit.
The streets were comparatively deserted, and the byways into
which they had penetrated contained no one out of doors.
After about a hurried run of twominutes, the ruffian caught up

(01:00:47):
to the terrified and disgusted ballet girl.
As she was about to turn the corner of a short, narrow St.,
the houses of which spoke only too plainly the poverty of their
inhabitants, she felt his hand upon her shoulder, and uttered a
short, sharp cry. Hark you, girl, he said as he
brought. Her to a dead stop.
I have condescended to sue for your.

(01:01:07):
Favours. But now you shall sue me for
mercy. I have marked you out for a
victim and I will humble your proud spirit to the dust.
You cannot escape me, Nay tis useless to struggle.
Help, help, cried the. Poor girl, struggling to release
herself from the ruffian's grasp.

(01:01:28):
You struggle in vain, He. Said forcing her close to him
and endeavouring. To imprint a kiss on her lips.
I will make you mine despite. Your cries and struggles, you
have none to help you here and now I command, where before I
pleaded so abjectly. He drew her to his bosom.
He pressed. His lips to her cheeks and

(01:01:49):
forehead, while the girl cried aloud for help.
Suddenly his hat was dashed violently from his head, and he
released his hold of the girl and staggered back as a strong
arm and circled the waist of thepoor affrighted ballet girl, and
a blow aimed with terrific. Force.
At the face of the ruffian knocked him over as if he had
been shot, as he fell from its force, striking his head against

(01:02:12):
a post at the corner of the street.
The girl looked up into the faceof her protector and started
back with a cry as she saw the hideous mask of Spring Heeled
Jack. And yes, indeed we have.
Another ballet girl. I know, I know, we're really

(01:02:32):
interrupt this week. Thing is, first of all, two of
these three ballet girls that wehave live right now are sort of
temporary ballet girls. They're temporary characters
will be moving on to something else, but the 1860s dreadfuls
really kind of team with ballet girls.
If you think about it, a ballet dancer is just about the most
compatible sort of showgirl withthe Victorian cult of true

(01:02:54):
womanhood. Maybe I'll do a Hapenny horrid
one of these Tuesdays and talk alittle bit about the Victorian
cult of true womanhood, because it is a fascinating historical
concept. The Ballet Girl is ornamental,
graceful, lovely, ethereal, and above all, silent.
No inconveniently assertive monologues, no scenery chewing,

(01:03:15):
look at me, drama. Chorus girls and burlesque
dancers were more overtly sexual, but ballet was a kind of
unique combination, a respectfuland effectively asexual artistic
practice that just happened to be super appealing to the male
gaze. Innocence and allurement.
What a combination. But back to our topic.

(01:03:35):
Alfred Coats is one of the leastsubtle of our authors, and that
is rather saying something. So he's not going to settle as
Mary Bradden did last week for having a horny libertine start,
coming on to our heroine and being run off by someone with a
sense of decency. No, he's going to go for a full
on attempt at rape with our heroSpring Heeled Jack bounding up

(01:03:56):
at the last minute to save the fair maiden from the fate worse
than death. For real, it's all very
melodramatic and I guess the author must have needed to pad
this chapter out because basically the whole chapter is
this man whore begging for sex from a woman who clearly A is
not his type and B finds him repellent.

(01:04:16):
I do think it was fun to see thepoor dolt trot out the sunk cost
fallacy to justify continuing topester her.
I've spent too much time trying.To batter down your defenses.
I won't walk away now. Also, it's funny that he won't.
Just lie to her. Oh yeah, Yeah, sure honey, I'll
marry you. Oh, we'll run away to Scotland.
Yeah. You know, like Lydia Bennett and

(01:04:36):
George Wickham. There's a power couple.
Yeah, it'll be great. Yeah, I do love.
This dreadful, but a. Lot of what I love about it is
how square and cheery and naive it is.
It's like a Roy Rogers movie. The bad guys are good, honest
crooks. They don't wear white hats.
They might steal your wallet, but they won't lie to you when
you ask them about it. It's adorable, is what it is.

(01:04:59):
Well, in the next chapter, chapter 14, we circle back to
Spring Heal Jack's adventure in the river Down.
He dives in quest of she who sought to end all sorrows in its
murky depths, and he sees her being sucked under a barge by
the current. There's a strong RIP current
right at that time, as the tide was going out.
He swims after her. He boards the barge.

(01:05:20):
He fights with a guard. He's back in the water.
Can he reach her in time? Will she be saved?
Or will Jack himself go down to a watery grave?
You're on the edge of your seat,I can tell.
Well, wonder on till Ed make allthings plain.
Ed, isn't Edward Coats our author?
Edward Coats doesn't work in iambic pentameter.
So Ed it is. Well, that'll be coming your way

(01:05:42):
2 Saturdays from now when we continue this story.
In the meantime, what the hell does virtue rewarded mean?
Slippery Dick got his virtue rewarded prigging wedge from
some Gentry. Can it means to be arrested Also
bummed, pinched, nabbed, touched, spoke to all those are
flash can't terms for being arrested.

(01:06:03):
Prigging, of course, is stealing.
Wedge means fine China, obviously a reference to
Wedgewood. And a Gentry can is the Ken or
House of a Tulip, AKA a Gentry Cove, IEA gentleman of means.
Well, that brings us around to our last dreadful of the
evening, Rose Mortimer or the Ballet Girl's revenge.

(01:06:24):
This one is new. I was at first reluctant to hit
you guys with another Ballet Girls story right now.
The problem was, after I'd read the first chapter of this one, I
was just hooked. More happens in the first two
chapters of this dreadful than in the 1st 13 of Varney.
It is a rollicking read. Something is always happening.
Somebody's always doing somebodydirty.

(01:06:46):
From scanning ahead, I gather that what we're doing is kind of
taking a tour through the early Victorian showbiz scene behind
the stage at Drury Lane. As Rose, our virtuous heroine,
plies her honorable trade, some of her weaker sisters get into
tight spots and do their best toget by or succumb to the
temptation and become horrible warnings for the young.

(01:07:07):
The art is wonderful. As I browse through the book, my
attention was arrested by a panel that showed a young woman
standing up in church, surrounded by kneeling
worshippers and shooting the pastor with a flintlock pistol.
Digging into the text, I learnedthat this girl was one of Rose's
colleagues who had been seduced and jilted by the preacher and
had learned that she had therebybeen inducted into a very large

(01:07:30):
club. This Parson had learned that his
clerical garb made sexual conquests much easier to make,
so she decided that since he hadruined her prospects, she might
as well serve out the rest of her term in an insane asylum and
save the next girl some grief. So blam.
Now, you have to admit, that's kind of cool.
I mean, it's kind of like an oldMiranda Lambert song.

(01:07:52):
Remember that one? Gunpowder and lead.
Anyway, there will never be a dull moment with this one.
I can't wait to get into it withyou.
So, yeah, let's do that now. Except first, the flash can't
term for Rose Mortimer is to tipthe velvet.
The old Levatine spent half an hour trying to tip the velvet,
but the bit a muslin wasn't having any.
All right, if you remember what a bit of muslin is, you probably

(01:08:14):
will know what this one means. But give it a guess.
After the story, we'll find out if you were right.
And here's the story. Speaking of which.
Chapter 1. The Night.
Shriek arose in the mire. The ruffian and his victim.

(01:08:35):
The rescue, the recognition, thethreat.
Help, Help, help. It was a wild and piercing
shriek which sounded through thestilly night, a cry drawn forth
by pain and terror, the earnestly beseeching cry of one
in dire distress and almost despairing appeal for succor.

(01:08:57):
The hour was late, and the streets were nearly deserted
save by the homeless Wanderers and outcasts of society.
A cold, wet night with a biting wind, a pitiless blast that
seemed to mock the thinly clad Wanderers whom want deprived of
warmth and shelter. It was on a night on which few
from choice would have ventured abroad, a night on which the

(01:09:20):
utterly miserable crouched, shivering on dreary flagstones,
praying God to take away from them the life which was so
bitterly hard to bear in the Stony hearted streets.
There was no kind sympathizing soul to hear that piteous cry
for help, no strong arm to come to the rescue of a fair and
fragile girl struggling frantically with her brutal

(01:09:41):
assailant. Scarcely 18 summers had she
seen, though her lovely face, pale and delicate, showed the
not easily mistaken record of sorrow and want.
Poor thing, her troubles had in truth commenced early.
She was miserably clad, though her few fluttering garments were
arranged with care and meekness,and seemed to show a striving at

(01:10:04):
a better position in life. It was difficult to guess at the
occupation of this young creature, but it was plain that,
as young as she was, her life had been a hard struggle with
want and sorrow. One glance into that sweet,
gentle face, and those clear, open eyes of heavenly blue,
proved that hers had been a sinless life, and that she,

(01:10:24):
though reared perchance in some vile hotbed of poverty and
crime, had yet remained undefiled by her hideous
surroundings. From the recess of a low,
frowning archway leading into a dark, narrow alley, and Lambeth,
a man had sprung upon her as shepassed and seized her by the
wrist. Help, help, help.

(01:10:45):
But no one was there to deliver her from his vice like grasp.
Muttering an oath between his clenched teeth, he bade her hold
her peace. As they emerged from the shadow
of the archway, the light of a gas lamp revealed the features
of her worst enemy, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Clad entirely in black. With the exception of his

(01:11:07):
necktie, he wore a somewhat respectable appearance.
He was evidently the leader of some highly sanctimonious little
flock of true believers, but no garb could conceal the brutal
ruffianism of his countenance, which would have been sufficient
to give him six months at the hand of any magistrate.
Holding her tightly by the wrist, he strove with his

(01:11:28):
disengaged hand to cover her mouth.
Again and again She shrieked forassistance, but although there
were lights at some of the windows in the alley, her cries
attracted no attention. The ruffian shifted his hold
from her wrist to her waist. His strong arm encircled her,
and though she struggled and fought with the energy of
despair, she grew weaker every minute and must shortly succumb

(01:11:50):
to her dastardly assailant. She threw her whole voice into
one final appeal. Help, help, help.
Hardly, however, had the cry ceased to ring through the
deserted St. when a strong hand was thrust in the ruffian's
neckerchief. A strong arm wrenched it round
with strangling violence, and hewas flung to the ground.

(01:12:10):
The girl staggered, half fainting to the wall, but before
her champion could render further assistance, the other
man had picked himself up and came rushing at him head first
like a bull. His antagonist, stepping coolly
on one side, let out his left with steam engine velocity and
power, and to gain the ruffian fell headlong to the pavement,
but this time bleeding and senseless.

(01:12:32):
I think you've had enough of it,my fine fellow, said the poor
girl's deliverer in a mocking tone.
If you differ from me, don't hesitate to say so.
He walked up to his prostate foeand bent over him, but the
Parson lay motionless as a log. I hope I haven't settled him all
together, said he. Those blows under the ear are

(01:12:52):
not very highly recommended by the faculty.
Then, turning to the still trembling girl, who was standing
with a face as white as death, and with her little hand pressed
to her beating heart, he addressed her for the first
time. Can I be of any further service?
To you. He asked in soft, winning tones
which contrasted strangely with the muscular power he had just

(01:13:13):
shown. No, no, I thank you Sir.
She answered timidly, lowering her eyes as she spoke.
I am deeply grateful to you for what you have already done.
But. But I am close to home, Sir, and
I need trouble you no further. I beg your pardon, said the
stranger, who is a tall, handsome man of about 5 or 6 and
20, with a profusion of light brown curly hair, laughing eyes,

(01:13:36):
and a huge beard and mustache rather ragged and uncared for.
I beg your pardon, but if I am not mistaken, I have the
pleasure of speaking to the young lady who was waiting
tonight at the stage door of thetheater in Hardris St.
The girl, blushing Crimson, looked at him with surprise, and
stammered and inaudible reply. Miss Rose Mortimer, is it not?

(01:13:57):
Yes, Sir, that is my name. I was at the theatre tonight
waiting to see Mr. Flathers, themanager.
I thought I was not mistaken. I heard your name given to him
and I could not help noticing you.
You were so different from. She looked at him inquiringly.
So different from the majority of those who come on similar
errands. The girl blushed deeply, but
made no reply. I am engaged at the theatre

(01:14:20):
myself, continued her commutative preserver.
My name is Jack Halliday. I'm a scene painter there
indeed. It is very late for you to be
out alone, Miss Mortimer. May I have the pleasure of
escorting you to your door? Thank you, said the girl
uneasily. I am close to my home and will
not trouble you any further, although do not think me
ungrateful for the service you have rendered me.

(01:14:42):
Shaw, don't mention that. It was a real pleasure to knock
the blaggard over. Hello.
What do you want now? The latter portion of his speech
was addressed to his late antagonist, who had struggled to
his feet and was swaying to and fro unsteadily.
The light from the lamp at the entrance to the court fell full
upon his face, ugly at all times, but now doubly hitches,

(01:15:04):
smeared with mud and blood. Nothing now, he growled,
grubbing the hair from his eyes.Nothing now.
But I won't forget you. Nor are you my friend.
I never forgot nor forgave in mylife did I, Miss Mortimer.
The diabolical sneer with which he uttered these words made the

(01:15:24):
scene painter double his fist involuntarily.
There's a long score to wipe out, continued the ruffian.
A very long score. But I never forget.
I shall give you something more to remind you of me, said Jack
Halliday. Unless you make yourself scarce
pretty quickly. But the young girl eagerly
caught his arm and drew him backwith a cry of horror.

(01:15:46):
No, no, she said, do not touch him.
Why not? Do not ask me.
But I must ask you, for unless you have some powerful motive, I
certainly cannot resist the pleasure of.
No, no, she exclaimed wildly. Do not strike him again, I
implore you. Well, if you don't wish it, I
won't, said the singing painter reluctantly.
But it does seem a pity. For heaven's sake, unless he

(01:16:09):
would be my ruin. The painter looked at her with
the greatest surprise. He was well used to mystery and
adventure on the stage, but he had never met before with it in
real life. He looked down at the poor girl,
who clung imploringly on his arm.
She was deadly pale and quivering like an Aspen leaf.
At any rate, Miss Mortimer, allow me to see you home.

(01:16:29):
She made no reply, but her little white hand rested
trustingly on his arm, and she walked by his side, though with
weak and uncertain steps. Her brutal assailant stared
after them, his evil eyes lighted up with a glare of
savage hatred. Curses.
I'm her, He muttered, shaking his first at their retreating
forms. Why was I fool enough to risk so

(01:16:53):
much when I could have had her still more securely in my power?
There are hundreds prettier thanshe who would open their arms to
me willingly, but I must needs long after her babyface.
Long for it that I do, and by all the powers of heaven and
hell, I swear that she shall yetbe mine.

(01:17:17):
Chapter 2 A wretched. Home a poor girl's trials.
The midnight assignation Mystery.
The attempted murder, The cruel terms.
Diamond Cut Diamond, the noble forger the fatal meeting.
The rake marks his victim come in.

(01:17:38):
Can't you now? No, just.
Stand there, letting in all thatcold, confounded.
This infernal hole is bad enoughwithout that.
So spoke in a peevish, complaining tone a man huddled
together over a handful of fire and seated in a room as
miserable as can possibly be imagined.
A room in which stood 2 rickety cane chairs and a deal table

(01:17:59):
which seemed to be only deliberating as to which of its
remaining legs should give way in order to bring a cracked
plate and a stale loaf to the level of the carpetless floor.
Oh, it's you, rose, said the man, turning slightly his head.
What a time you've been. She made no reply, but busied
herself in, taking a few articles of food from her

(01:18:20):
pockets and arranging them around the loaf.
Can't you speak, eh? You go and leave your father the
whole evening, and you having a word to say when you come in.
Where have you been? To the theatre, father.
Well, what success? None.
Poor Rose, unable to restrain her feelings any longer, burst
into tears. Can you sit?

(01:18:41):
I'm hanged if you're whimpering isn't enough to drive a man mad.
Cry, cry, cry. You're always turning on the
water as if your father had beena turncock instead of a
gentleman. I can't help it.
Bothering T and I can't I? I?
I speak out. Can't you?
I've been frightened, and I frightened.

(01:19:01):
Did you see a ghost in the alley?
No, but as I passed along a man seized me by the wrist and held
me fast. A pretty thing to frighten you.
Who was it? Rose made no answer.
Did you know him? Yes.
She replied so faintly, though, that her father scarcely heard
the word. Well, Oh, father, you must guess

(01:19:25):
who it was. There's but one man we have
caused to dread. You don't mean to tell me it
was? Yes, Yes, father, it was Abel
Booth. Well, you're a strange girl.
What did you say to him? I don't know what would have
happened but that a gentleman kindly rescued me and rescued
confound his meddling ambulance.What do you mean you can't stand

(01:19:47):
there and tell me? You refuse to listen to him?
Father. Father, said the trembling girl,
in tones of piteous supplication.
What would you have had me do? Do I'd like that.
That's a nice selfish speech. You know he can send me to
prison tomorrow. Do you know he can ruin me with
a word? Do you know he is a spiteful and
revengeful as old Harry himself?A pretty business you've made of

(01:20:10):
it. But you never had an Adam of
feeling in your nature again. Poor Rose broke down and sobbed
aloud. Dear, leave off whining and make
yourself scarce. I expect a visitor.
A visitor, father, And at this time of night, what the devil do
you mean by talking Throw to me.Am I bound to get your
permission before I ask a friendto call upon me?

(01:20:33):
Poor Rose only sighed. She was too well accustomed to
hard words to be surprised at them.
From her earliest infancy cursesand threats and abuse had
sounded in her ears. She had some faint recollection
of a happier time when she saw afinely dressed ladies and
gentlemen about her, but it was a dim, hazy remembrance as of a

(01:20:53):
dream, and she hardly knew whether it had any other origin
than her own imagination. Slowly and sorrowfully, at her
father's command, she gathered together the scanty outdoor
clothing she had discarded on entering the room.
But ere she quitted the cold, dreary chamber, a peculiar knock
sounded at the door. It was followed almost
immediately by the lifting of the latch, and with a quick

(01:21:15):
stride a stranger entered the room.
Hello, what's the meaning of this?
He asked angrily as his eyes lighted on Rose.
Couldn't you take care we were alone?
Leave the room, Said the other man with a threatening gesture.
Leave the room or I'll not leavea whole bone in your body.
It's only my daughter there, he added, turning to his visitor

(01:21:35):
and addressing him with an apologetic, cringing tone which
contrasted strongly with that which he had used on his
daughter the moment before. Rose retired without a word.
But not. Until she had closely observed
the features of her father's visitor, he was considerably
above the middle height, and possessed an appearance which
seemed to stamp him as belongingto the upper class of society,

(01:21:57):
despite his being attired in a shabby coat wrapped round with a
well worn Plaid. His face was strikingly
handsome, but in his eyes, whichwere dark and deeply set, there
was a cold glitter which at times imparted to his face an
almost diabolical look. A jet black mustache, carefully
tended, showed off his white shining teeth, which at times

(01:22:19):
seemed to snarl beneath the hair.
But in spite of these disagreeable attributes, when
perfectly calm, his form and features were those which
painters and sculptors of old embodied the heathen gods.
Now cried the stranger as Rose closed the door behind her.
Are they finished? Yes, count, yes, muttered the
elder man, at the same time fidgeting somewhat uneasily in

(01:22:42):
his seat. Well, out with a man, I've no
time to waste. The other rubbed his hands
together, but made no movement. Do you hear?
Yes, I hear. By Jove, then you had better
obey. Yes, count, I hear and will
obey. But speak, man, can't you?
I have been considering, noble count, that the risk I run is

(01:23:02):
very great and, and, and therefore you are entitled to a
greater recompense than we agreed to originally.
Precisely. You also think, I suppose, that
I am in urgent want of those bits of paper?
I suppose so, smirked the other.And that consequently I shall be
quite prepared to pay a large sum to obtain them.

(01:23:25):
Rosa's father seemed to be somewhat taken aback by the
supreme coolness of his visitor,and his face lost something of
the look of cunning pleasure. But he answered in the
affirmative, though faintly, precisely, precisely.
Now, from your own lips I learn you to be an extortion at Rogue,
but yet I am willing to deal fairly with you.
The countenance of Hugh Mortimerbrightened up considerably, and

(01:23:47):
he mechanically stretched forth his hand.
Not so fast, my good fellow. Do you see this purse?
He not only saw it, but almost devoured it with his eyes, as
the man he addressed as Count held up a knitted purse, through
the meshes of which the quick sight of Rose's father detected
the glistening gold, at the sametime that his ears drank in the

(01:24:08):
sound of the chinking of the precious metal.
Good. It contains the exact amount we
agreed beforehand was to be the price paid.
Give me the paper and take it. Hugh Mortimer shook his head.
He reviews. How much more do you want?
Double the count put his hand into his pocket, and Hugh
Mortimer's eyes brightened as hefancied another glittering purse

(01:24:30):
would be produced. But he was wrong.
He had reckoned without his host.
Something glittering came from the pocket, but it was not a
purse. With two rapid strides the
stranger reached him, and ere hecould utter a word or a cry, had
twisted his fingers tightly in his neckcloth and hurled him to
the floor. Half strangled and utterly
incapable of uttering a sound, he lay prostate, his visitor

(01:24:53):
kneeling on his chest, holding the shining something which was
the barrel of a revolver within a few inches of his forehead.
Now he a Mortimer. We are upon a more equal
footing. Who now is to dictate the terms?
The prostate man strove to call for help, but a tighter wrench
at his neckerchief showed him the folly of the attempt.

(01:25:14):
It is useless to struggle, said the Count.
Listen to me. I wish to converse with you, but
I do not wish any witnesses called in.
So remember, though I loose my hold at your throat, I still
keep a loaded revolver in my hand.
And if you utter one single wordin a louder tone than that in
which we were just now speaking,that word will be your death

(01:25:34):
warrant. Remember, too, although I have
no wish to commit murder, still to me my life is of greater
value than yours. Get up.
He relaxed his hold, and Hugh Mortimer rose slowly and
staggered to his feet. The first thing he saw was the
barrel of the revolver pointed straight at his head.
Now, Hugh Mortimer, bring me thepaper and.

(01:25:56):
And the money, stammered the frightened man, You have
forfeited all right to mention terms to me.
Bring me the paper. Slowly and reluctantly, Mortimer
took from a cupboard A roll of thin tissue paper, upon which
several words had been engraved.The pieces of paper were not
large, but at the top of each was engraved in old English
letters, ornamented with many flourishes.

(01:26:18):
Bank of England, good, said the count, examining them.
You are not taught engraving fornothing, I see.
So saying, he pocketed the roll,and looked with a sardonic smile
full into the face of the man who had handed them to him.
Here, said he with a short laugh, here is half the sum
agreed upon. You have forfeited the other

(01:26:38):
half by asking double. Take it and be thankful it isn't
everyone who would have given you that much stay, said Hugh
Mortimer, his face white with passion.
Listen to me, I can denounce youas an adventurer and a swindler.
And yes, my good fellow, you can.
But who will believe you? Well on the?
Contrary if I denounce you as a.Forger transportation for life,

(01:27:00):
remember? With a pleasant smile upon his
face, the Count turned and left the miserable room, totally
heedless of the look of baffled cunning and hate with which his
tool regarded him. Just before he quitted the house
he came again face to face with Rose, and now for the first time
observed her personal appearance.
For a moment they stood regarding each other in the

(01:27:21):
passage, his face expressing admiration of her beauty and
hers astonishment at the presence of 1 so handsome and
evidently patrician in this House of squalid poverty.
She shrank back, abashed by his lawless gaze, and he smiled at
her alarm. It was the first meeting and
destined to result in misery, bitter, bitter misery to the

(01:27:42):
poor unhappy girl. Well, that's it for today one.
Thing I really like about this one is that the stakes are
really high, but it doesn't beatyou over the head with them.
If you think about it, though, Rosa's running for her life.
She doesn't say that, but it's really, really clear getting

(01:28:05):
picked up by the ballet is her one shot.
Her father is a crook and a really nasty man, and it'll be a
matter of weeks, if not days before he's basically ruined her
by trading away permission to, well, to be blunt, permission to
forcibly deflower her in exchange for something he
considers more important than his daughter's virtue.
Actually, we'll learn exactly what he's prepared to make that

(01:28:27):
trade for next time. So she's not just another Pretty
Little hopeful moping around thestage door.
She has to do this. If she gives up, she might as
well just die. She also seems to be cursed with
one of those faces that makes bad men wild with lust, like
Deja Thoris and the John Carter of Mars books.
That's going to be dashed inconvenient for her, but at the

(01:28:48):
same time her looks are getting her a long way right now.
Imagine a plainer girl in the same situation.
Would she just be doomed? Yeah, let's not think about
that. One last thing I want to mention
for my fellow ungrateful colonials out here in South
North America. Maybe some of you Canadians too,
although you probably mostly arehip to this stuff.

(01:29:09):
Count is very much a non-englishnoble title.
It's a foreign title more prevalent in Southern and
Eastern Europe. Picking that noble title for
Count Lerno would have leveragedall the dark, sinister pit and
pendulum vibes with gothic castles and the Spanish
Inquisition and stuff like that.There's a reason that Count
Dracula is not Duke Dracula or Baron Dracula.

(01:29:33):
Lerno is kind of a lame name. But hey, when you get to know a
little bit more about Count Lerno, it'll make sense that he
would pick a dull, non attentiongrabbing moniker.
Because, yeah, I think I can tell you without spoiling
anything that Lerno is not his real name.
Anyway, we are now officially underway with this one.
In the next chapter, lots more stuff happens.
I mean, lots more. I can't wait to get to it, but

(01:29:55):
that'll be two weeks from now. But here's a little taste of
what's coming. Rose goes back to the theater to
try again to talk her way into ashowbiz job.
Just as she is being repulsed, Jack Halliday appears,
recognizes her, and whisks her past the screeners into the
manager's office by apparently bribing the receptionist, which
is an interesting thing for him to do for a stranger.

(01:30:17):
The manager tells her to get lost, but just then the other
man turns around, who's in the room, and hey, it's Count Lerno.
Count Lerno, of course, urges the manager to take Rose on.
Hooray, right? But now she owes her job and her
salvation from her father's Wiles to the wolfish Count
Lerno. That's maybe not ideal.
Back home, Rose sees Abel Booth leaving her apartment.

(01:30:39):
Entering, she asks her father what Abel was doing, and Hugh
realizes Abel was spying on him.Hugh clearly knows some kind of
showdown is coming and he blamesRose for it.
It's your namby pamby modesty that has brought this evil down
on me. Apparently she was supposed to
allow Abel Booth to ravish her than the previous day, and now
he is angry because she did not.So now looking out the window he

(01:31:02):
sees Booth and two other men on the sidewalk looking up at them.
Hugh knows this means that the hour has come, so he orders Rose
up into her room and locks her in and gets an old fashioned
pistol out of a hidden cubby in the floor.
It's all clearly building to some horrible day.
New mall. Will Rose survive to report for
her first day at the theater? Will she be fatherless as well

(01:31:24):
as motherless on that day? Time will tell, and by time I
mean two weeks until 2 Saturdaysfrom now when we continue this
story. But first, what does tip the
velvet mean? The old libertine spent half an
hour trying to tip the velvet, but that bit a Muslim wasn't
having any. It means to pitch woo hard, to
try with soft speech, to win theesteem and or favor and or

(01:31:46):
favors of a woman. If it's reciprocated, you move
on to the billing and cooing phase.
That concludes this episode of the Penny Dreadful Story Show
podcast. I hope you'll join me again this
coming Saturday, Same spring healed time, same spring healed
channel for next week's show when we will have Chapter 2 of
The Mysteries of London, Chapter14 of Varney the Vampire, and

(01:32:08):
Chapter 52 of Sweeney Todd in The Mysteries of London.
The well dressed boy scampers upstairs ahead of the newcomers
and ducks into the farthest room.
Luckily the newcomers enter the other room and light a candle
and start taking some refreshments, and the boy
overhears them talking of burglaries and murders and a
trap door in the house that deadbodies once were flung down into

(01:32:30):
the river Fleet, which runs subterraneously under the house.
The boy is desperate to get out but can't leave without them
seeing him. Is he stuck?
Will he be discovered and caughtand killed and maybe dropped
into the Fleet River himself? In Varney the Vampire, Sir
Francis Varney brings wine out for Henry and Mr. Marchdale, but
does not drink any himself. Henry increasingly convinced

(01:32:53):
that Varney is in fact a vampire.
The vampire struggles and dithers as Marchdale tries to
help him hold himself together. He wonders if he has a duty to
destroy the vampire. Then Marchdale helpfully reminds
Henry that Flora, having been bitten by a vampire, may be
turning into one too. Marchdale is so helpful these

(01:33:13):
days. In Sweeney Todd, Sir Richard
Blunt descends into the vaults, followed reluctantly by the
Beadle and the church warden. Soon, figuring out that they are
going to be more hindrance than help, Sir Richard hurries ahead,
leaving them in darkness. They panic and make a great
rumpus, and only the timely intervention of Crotchet stops

(01:33:34):
the whole affair from spiraling out of control, with Mr. Vigley
running for a constable. Eventually Sir Richard emerges
from the vault, deathly pale andlooking shaken, and steadies his
nerves with a big shot of Brandy.
But he insists that everything is normal and that the stone can
be put back down. But then he pulls Crotchet aside
and lays down a firm rule. No one is ever to be allowed to

(01:33:55):
be shaved in Sweeney Todd's shopalone.
Ever. All that plus more flash.
Can't. Words are coming your way next
Saturday Eve. A special thanks once again to
Baron Fit's Pumpington of Dump Quest's cryptocurrency rental
agency for sponsoring this podcast episode.
Check them out at pumpdump.ru today or get your wallet ready

(01:34:17):
for a pounding and call 1800 Pump Dump.
Our theme music is a track called Night Ragents by Maxim
Cornishev. You can find more of his work on
Spotify, Apple Music, Band Camp and probably some other places
too. The Penny Dreadful Story Hour is
a production of Pulp Lit Studios.
For all the gory details, look to pulp-lit.com and to get in

(01:34:39):
touch with me, hit me up at finn@pulp-lit.com.
Thanks for joining me Pippins. It's time for us to Pike off at
a gallop for the Penny Dreadful Story Hour.
I'm Professor Flash AKA Finn JD John, signing off now fair 4th
and fill up the rest of the weekabroad studying botany.
Bye now. The.

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