Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 102: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a ee ES I 122 ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. NN a rope had been passed between his arms, lashing them close to his side. Quilt Arnold walked on one side, sword in hand, the old Jew on the other, holding a pistol to the prisoner’s head. , Jonathan Wild led the van, continually turning round to taunt his victim. The rear was brought up by a number of well- armed, stern-looking constables. As for Blueskin, he was a passive object, being still insevsiblefrom the blow he had received from Wild’s bludgeon. “ You thought you would escape me, eh, Jack?” cried the chief thief-taker, rubbing his hands and leering with spiteful satisfaction. ‘‘When did you know me to fail in my purpose? You must be mad. I offered you a chance of reconciliation; you refused it, and it is now too late. I said I would hang you, Jack, and you will find that I will not be worse than my word.” ‘To catch is not to keep,’ sneered Jack, “I have | escaped you more than once, and what has been done before may be done again,” “Thank ye, Jack, for the timely reminder,” returned Wild, in the same sneering vein, “ Iwill take precious good care that you shall be properly accommodated on this occasion, If you escape me this time I will forgive you.” Jack Sheppard lau hed scornfully. ‘‘ Mark this, you villain, your career of treachery and scoundrelism will not endure much longer ; 1 will discover all your black trickery to the autho- rities, and though I may not escape the halter, I shall die with the satisfaction that vengeance has overtaken you at last.” Jonathan Wild scowled darkly. ‘‘Dog ! do you dare to tareaten me?” he growled, erasping his bludgeon. At this point of their route they came upon a wide and frequented thoroughfare. The news spread like wildfire that the redoubt- able Jack Sheppard, the housebreaker, had been recaptured by the city marshal. A great mob gathered around the prisoners and their captors, Some of the bystanders, probably persons who had sufiered from the depredations of Sheppard, Blueskin, and their gang, cheered the officers of the law, and congratulated them on having caught the escaped robbers. Others, principally roughs of the roughest order, cursed and abused the constables, and uttered cries of encouragement and sympathy to the prisoners. Not a few of the more violent seemed inclined to attempt a rescue. They hustled the constables, and more than once made a rush, as if to separate them from their prisoners. The officers, however, stuck staunchly to their duty, and laid about them vigorously with their truncheons and pistol butts, Jonathan Wild, losing his temper, furiously charged the crowd. He was greeted by yells, groans, and hisses, very moment increased the danger that there would be a general riot, The counter cheers and abuse of angry men, the shrieks of terrified women, and the not unfrequent smashing of window panes, struck by the stones and other missiles that were flying about like hail, be- tokened the dangerous mood of the excited mob, Jack Sheppard’s piercing black eyes roamed round on all sides, seeking for a chance of escape, ET LL _ But Wild, Quilt Arnold, and Mendez took good. care not to suffer him to advance or recede a step, They kept a firm hold of his collar. Presently, by the pushing of the crowd, Wild and Sheppard were forced to the top of some doorsteps, whence they could be seen by all in the crowd. Upon their sudden appearance in their elevated position, the turbulent roughs set up a shout of cheering and laughter. : ‘Hear me, good people,” cried the prisoner, in a loud voice. ‘Listen to the words of a condemned man; hear my true charge against this bloody- minded, treasonous approver by my side—Jonathan Wild!” -“ Hear him! hear him! Listen to plummy Jack Sheppard! Hurrah !” shouted the mob, “Let’s rescue him, Bill; he’s the kiddiest diver on the pad,” growled one ruffian to another. ‘‘ Aye, the pink of dimber dambers,” laughed his companion. “® should like to knock that old coney- catcher on the sconce, It ’d be a Chris’en deed, Bob. Let’s have a shy at it,” “ And poor old Joe Blueskin’s lumbered, too,” cried a little pickpocket, standing on tip-toe to over- Jook the crowd. ‘Keep together, pals,” growled a savage-looking fellow, who, he might be safely guessed, was by profession a foot-pad or burglar. ‘“ Let’s get upa rump, and trip the infernal blood-hounds,” The crowd pressed so closely round the officers and their prisoners that there was no possibility of advancing or retreating. ‘‘Hear me, good people; hear me but a few words. I make no attempt to escape ; but give me a chance of denouncing the blackest villain that ever battened on a trade in human blood |” “ Silence, dog !” roared Wild, He upheavea his bludgeon. It fell with a terrible crash upon the brow of th prisoner. 5 Jack Sheppard reeled backwards, and fell half- stunned against a door-post, Recovering his footing, he re-appeared, his pale face streaming with blood. - He held up his fettered hands and glared on Wild with a look of rage and disdain. ‘“Shame, shame!” cried some milder voices in the crowd. ** Shame to strike the poor lad, who is pinioned and can’t defend himself,” screamed women’s voices, ° ‘“ A rescue | a rescue |” roared the roughs, “Clubs! clubs ! down with the harming beaks !” A furious rush was now made upon the con- stables. The hubbub and uproar were tremendous. Bnt the indomitable Jonathan, well backed by his satellites, opposed a stout resistance. Suddenly the shrill fanfarre of a bugle was heard in the distance. Then came the trampling of horses’ feet, and the clanking of sabres, A sudden cry arose in the crowd. “The red coats |!” At this alarm, a panic broke out amongst thee crowd, who scampered off in all directions. Drums beating and bugles sounding, a troop of mounted soldiers were now seen filing down the street, Jonathan Wild, who was panting from his late exertions, and displayed some marks of rough handling—one of his eyes being blackened and his lip gashed by a flint, looked towards the advancing soldiers with a triumphant leer. : “ Bring him along, Quilt Arnold,” he growled, Eomichoo <SriGO