Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 118: what you’re looking at

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138 ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. TE ee At length they stood within ten yards of the old tower, All was silent as the grave. Not a light was visible. “ Hist !” said Barabbas in low tones ; “ wait a few moments.” And he crept forward to reconnoitre. Round—completely round, the old house he crawled with stealthy steps. Not a leaf rustled, not a branch cracked beneath his noiseless tread. The back of the ‘‘ Owlet’s Roost’’ seemed as silent as the forest. Not a soul seemed stirring, Barabbas rejoined his men so silently, that they perceived him not till he was in their midst, He then divided them into three parties. One party of six was to remain where they were ; another party of six were to guard the doors and see that no one escaped, while the others were to accompany Barabbas into the house, These arrangements being made, each party took up its proper position, and the dwarf tried the front door. It was securely fastened. He moved round to the side entrance and found that secured also. “ Nothing remains but to scale one of the win- dows,” said he. ‘‘Hunt about for a ladder, my men ; but be careful to make no noise.” The men dispersed to hunt among the out-build- ings for this necessary article, while Barabbas stood, with folded arms, gazing at the stout walls that stood between him and his treasure. Let us now take a peep at the interior of the “ Owlet’s Roost,” Nell Peveril had retired to rest, but could not sleep. Restlessly she tossed from side to side, seeking in vain for the slumber that refused to visit her eyes. At length she stepped from her couch and ap- proached the window. She almost uttered a scream as she gazed out, for there, in the open space, were groups of men con- versing in whispers. : The fog had partly rolled off seaward, and by the dim light she could see that they were armed. What should armed men do at the Owlet’s Roost at that hour of the night ? They could be after no good. She securely fastened the window and then hastened to the adjoining apartment, where slept Violet Tremaine, The foster sister of our hero lay in & calm, deep sleep, the sleep of youthful health and innocence, To awaken her was but the work of a moment, With a sigh the sleeper opened her eyes to find her friend standing by the bedside. ‘Why, what brings you here?” she asked, ‘Hist ! there is danger,”’ “Where? From whom?” “T know not. But there are armed men outside, and I feel certain that mischief is intended.” “ Oh, that he were here, then we might laugh at danger,”’ sighed Violet. “ Ags he is not, we must protect ourselves in the best way we can. Luckily the servants have arms, They must, be aroused,” The bold girl was gliding away to alarm the household, when the voice of Violet stopped her, OO nae eX0K) “Do not leave me, dear Nell, break into my chamber.” “ Pshaw ! I have fastened the window, they can- not enter. Dress yourself, and I will return ina few moments.” . Violet sprang from her bed and hastily assumed her garments, while her fair and bold friend glided from room to room to alarm the domestics. This was soon done. The men servants armed themselves and began to barricade the doors with heavy pieces of furniture. Then a loud, piercing scream was heard. It proceeded from Violet’s apartments, Nell Peveril hastened thither, with a pistol in her hand that she had snatched from one of the men, By the dim light a human face was seen peering through the window. Tt was the dwarf, Barabbas. The brave girl levelled her weapon and pulled the trigger. There was a Joud yell and a fearful oath. When the smoke cleared away that fiendish face was no longer seen, “+ CHAPTER LXIII, TOM KING AND DICK TURPIN—THE GIPSY CAMP— HORSES ON THE ROAD—CATCHING A TARTAR. It was some little time before Tom King could per- suade his beautiful steed to arise and continue the journey. The lovely creature was sorely fatigued, and though the highwayman longed to be away, he would not for the world use any severity to his favourite, The gentle animal turned her lustrous eyes to- wards him in such a beseeching manner, that Tom felt almost inclined to leave her to rest and con- tinue his journey on foot. ‘“Come, Tom,’’ said Dick Turpin; “time flies, and we must fly with it. Rouse up that beast of yours and let us be going.” “ Lightfoot is no ordinary animal, nor has she undergone an ordinary journey, Stay a few moments ; she will be on her feet directly.” The gallant highwayman knelt by the side of his steed, caressed her, and spoke in encouraging tones, At length she responded, and shaking her head, arose to her feet, Tom threw the reins over the pommel of the saddle. ‘Lead on, Dick.” “Follow me, Tom ; I know the road.” For some few minutes they walked in silence, Tom King thought too much of his horse to enter into any conversation, Lightfoot followed him quietly, though occa: sionally testifying her'affection by rubbing her nose against his shoulder, There was no need to lead her; whither her master went she would follow, “‘ How many of these sons of Eeypt are there in the wood ?” he asked at length, Pre O I fear they may