Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

-— i 132 ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. “Down. the lane, zur, into the Glenthorpe road.” “ Forward !”? shouted Jonathan. Away they dashed. The old countryman toddled up the lane towards the farm-house, ‘“‘ Barnesdale, there |’ shouted Jonathan, when he and the rest had reached the road. ‘‘Tom King has taken the other way, and that cursed Oakley and his party are in full cry, Spur hard for your lives !” ‘““Aye, aye, Mr. Wild,” laughed Barnesdale. “ Let's be in at the death for the credit of our office. Harkaway !” The sound of their horses’ hoofs was heard receding. “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the highwayman, “I begin to have faith in the gipsy?dell’s palmestry. I was not born to be hanged. Why, it was the farmer himself—my purchase—that they were pursuing. Now, dam’me, this beats cockfighting !” He once more leaped his horse over the bush. The next moment he was scouring along the road. The morning broke. Grey streaks illumined the east, and the stars faded out. Tom King’s noble horse began to show tokens of her exhaustion, She hung her head and travelled painfully. The highwayman cast a rapid glance around him, He saw no signs of pursuit, He therefore entered a little coppice by the road- side, and flinging himself from the saddle, unbitted the horse, and suffered it to graze and rest itself. The sun had now risen, and the birds welcomed the returning day with loud and jubilant song. The highwayman, reckless of danger and out- worn by fatigue, threw himself down upon a ferny bank, and fell into a profound slumber, CHAPTER LX, THF GIPSY GIRL WARNS TOM KING TO FLY~—THE CHASE RESUMED WITHOUT SUCCESS, Tom Kine had slept he knew not how long, for he was quite outworn with weariness, He started from his sleep roused by the pressure of a soft hand on his shoulder. A gipsy girl, dark-skinned, but beautiful in form and feature, crouched beside him, She clutched her red cloak about her, and pressed her finger on her lip. ‘Hush !” she said, is an eager whisper, ‘The bloodhounds are on your track |” . ‘What, you, Jael, my dimber Roumany mort !” laughed the highwayman, catching her by the hand and passing his arm around her waist. “ Now, by the light of those lustrous orbs, thine eyes, I care not if all the hosts of the Philistines be upon me, so I can enjoy the bliss of your presence for five minutes! Sit down, my peerless Egyptian ; there’ll be time to run when the pack is in full cry.” The gipsy girl smiled, blushed, and struggled to disengage herself from his embrace, “ You are mad !’’ she exclaimed. “Ha, ha! Why should I fear, my fair sybil ? Have you not prophesied that I shall not make my exit from this world in the manner so customary among the spruce gentlemen of my honourable eT a ate Satall order? I lead a charmed life; why should I now ‘despair my charm?’” ‘Nay, then,” said the girl, rising, and tearing herself away from his embrace, “since you mock me for my pains, I will leave you to your fate.” “ Well, but what’s amiss ?” “Wild and his men are on your track.” ‘““Is that all? They have hunted me since yes- terday morning,” returned the highwayman, laugh- ing. in But they are here!” cried the gipsy girl, eagerly. ‘‘ They have entered the wood, and, unless you mount and fly at once, you will be taken.” ‘Let them come,” rejoined King, moodily, fold- ing his arms and re-seating himself on the bank, “Why should I try to escape my deserved fate? If any other but that infernal Wild were the leader of my pursuers, I think I should give my- self up in the despair of my heart. Oh, bitter folly! Yet who was so gay, so kindly disposed, as Tom King? I tell ye, Jael, that I don’t care one jot for the wrong I have done the world, against which I am justly embittered—at least, I mean my world. But what galls me is, that I cannot respect myself; and by rushing to a sudden and violent death I cannot retrieve the past !” : “But you can by living an honest and a brave life !” returned the gipsy girl, with fervour. ‘Too late,” returned the robber, shaking his head. ‘If it had not been for that cursed affair of Kate Dulcimer, I might now be serving honourably under the flag of Roving Jack,” The trampling of horses’ hoofs was now heard ringing through the bowery glades of the forest. “ Fly !” cried Jael, clasping her hands, | The highwayman’s face darkened with ferocity. “The cursed ban-dogs!” he growled. “I will turn at bay, and let that infernal thief-taker look to himself !” As he spoke he drew his pistcls and cocked them. ‘No, no, Tom !” cried the gipsy girl, imploringly, “Save yourself, for my sake, Tom.” Tom King looked at her gloomily, ““And, if I were dead, Jael, is there one who would regret me?” The girl threw her arms about him, and sobbed on his breast. “Tshould kill myself,’ she murmured. “You have been so kind to me. When I was poor and friendless you lent me a helping hand, and you have always been so honourable, Ob, there is yet time to make amends for the past. You can flee this country ; I will go with you; I will be your slave, But do not linger 4 moment—away !” Tom kissed her tenderly. “‘ For your sake, then,” he said, with a smile, “I will mount and ride to Tottenham, where I shall meet Dick Turpin.” ‘Oh, avoid that ruffian,” she exclaimed, vehe- mently. _ ‘‘He will be your ruin—he will be the cause of your death. I have read the lines in his palm, and I foresee that he is destined to kill his best friend, and I read in yours that——” Tom King interrupted with a light laugh. “** How shall my reckless life have end? ‘You shall die by the hand of a trusty friend,’ Quoth she—quoth she,” | U. Let me kiss you for that prophecy, my dimber ass. ‘But, hark!” cried the girl, holding up her finger, “ Hark, hark! the Watch-dogs bark |” | laughed Tom King, (S@) (COMIC LOOOL< —.