Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. upon her master with a look of fondness, and nibbled the grain from his hand, though, seemingly, rather to please him than to satisfy herself, for she . was too much exhausted to care for food. ; Tom King rose, and, clasping his hands behind _ him, paced moodily about, absorbed in his bitter reflections. All at once he started with a feeling of strange foreboding—a sense of the presence of something evil—an impulse which madly urged him to flight, Heturned. . A man emerged from the trees. Tom clapped his hand on his sword. “Why, Tom, don’t you know me, my hero ?” laughed a gruff voice. — “What, Dick?” cried the highwayman, with a smile, ° ' “Aye, comrade,” returned Turpin, for it was he. ‘Ha, ha, ha! You rode at a spanking pace through the village. I was at the window of the ‘Seven Bells’ when you passed. You have winged old : Barnesdale ; I helped to carry him into the inn.” “ The devil you did!” ‘Aye, for I had pulled a butcher’s smock over my riding-coat,”’ “ But where was Jonathan ?” “He roared like a mad bull, called for another horse, and started alone in pursuit of you.” “Ts he on the track ?” asked Tom, quickly, - |“ No, worse luck,” growled Turpin, “ But I have ' laid an ambush for him,” | “Bravo l* __ “That’s a glorious mare of yours, Tom,” laughed Trp. ‘IT will make a match with you if you ike,” _ “Done! What’s the odds?” “Well, I'll lay six to one on Black Bess,” “And will lose,” returned Tom. “That remains to be seen,’ returned Dick. _ But come, Tom, Bush and Fielder are bivouack- _ ing in the forest with some of the]Roumanies of Red _Ishmael’s gang. Shall we join them ?” _ “Aye, comrade,” returned Tom; “my rough ride has sharpened my appetite, and I am tired | out, Letusbe going,” - CHAPTER LXI, JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN ESCAPE FROM Rte at . THE ROUND-HOUSE, _JACK SHEPPARD and Blueskin were confined in separate but adjoining cells, _ “The elder robber was recovering from his state of _insensibility when borne into the round-house, | ~He breathed deeply, and, by the orders of Jona- _ than Wild, drops of strong spirits had been poured ‘upon his lips, He was locked in the cage or cell. For some time during his imprisonment, Jack Sheppard kept huddled in a heap, with his arms folded, a prey to remorse and despair, At length he roused himself, His first thought was of escape, His hands were fettered, and hig feet shackled, He felt in his breast, A knife was cunningly concealed under his _ waistcoat, | ‘This he drew forth, With it he set to work, and, after some labour, contrived to remove his handcuffg, _ “He crawled to the wall, He knocked softly, ty Joe td No answer. “Hulloa! what are you calling for, young gallows-bird?” shouted the rough voice of the beadle, “All right, old covey,” laughed Sheppard, “I was only talking in my sleep.” “ You’d better sleep without talking, my nab,” growled the beadle, “ or 1’ll spoil your dreams, I’ll warrant ye.” Jack Sheppard made some jeering reply. Then he abandoned himself to despondency, The chamber, at the back of which the cages or cells were built, was crowded by a large posse of constables-and watchmen. At length, Jack’s impatience of restraint over: mastered every other feeling. Once more he crawled to the side of his cage, and gave a tap, at the same time singing at the top of his voice some flash song, | He listened attcnfively. After a moment he was rewarded by hearing a sort of grunt, and a gruff voice growled, “I’m fly, captain.” ‘‘All’s bowman, Joe,” whispered Sheppard. “ We'll give the dubsman leg-bail. I have escaped. from St. Giles’s round-house once before, and it shall go hard but I’ll do the trick again,” “ Bravo, captain |” returned Sheppard, “Have you slipped the darbies ?” “ Yes ; are you in rufiles ?” “Rather,” returned Blueskin, dolefully clanking his chain; “but hist !” The beadle came to the door of the cells, opened the gratings, and peeped in, Jack Sheppard immediately clapped his hands together, leading the gaoler to suppose that he was yet handcuffed, The man then turned away. Then the sounds of clinking cars, and the draw- ing up of chairs to a table was heard by the prisoners, ‘‘ Let’s have a gameat all fours, Mr. Guffin,” said Shotbolt, the gaoler, addressing the beadle. “Aye, we can make up a hand. There’s you and I and Mr. Snatcher, and we can play dummy.” “No, there’s no need to do that,” said another voice, ‘‘J’ll play with you.” ‘‘Ha! that’s well said,” returned the beadle, “Mr. Wild’s man, Mr. Marks, gentlemen,” he con- tinued, introducing the speaker to the rest of the company, “a worthy and responsible man,” “Come, sit down, then, and let us pitch for. partners.” Jack Sheppard had not been idle during this con- versation. He had employed himself in working with his knife at the lock of his shackles, He contrived to disengage one leg, Not, however, without hurting himself very much, He took off his neckerchief. He bound his fetters close to his legs, Mark ho !” he whispered. ‘‘’m down,” returned Blueskin, “Listen, Joe.” With all my ears, captain.” " Here’s a crack in the wooden partition.” “Yes ; have you a file, my pal?” “No, worse luck ; there were three in the padding of my best coat, but I swopped that with the in- fernal old peach of a Jew.” **That’s bad,” 3 aN here’s a knife,” ey | push it through the crevice, my pal,” Jack Sheppard complied with this Maher p- COMME MOOS {CC