Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

= - ; - } — ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER, “A good dozen. Some of the rarest black-eyed. wenches you ever saw.” Tom thought of the gipsy girl who had warned him against his friend, and wondered if she were among the number, _But he said nothing, for Jael’s words had made an Impression on his mind, and he began to specu- oon the probability of the prophecy being ful- e . But gloomy thoughts passed away, as with joy he saw his favourite steed improve her pace at each step. The stiffness seemed to pass away from her limbs, the proud head was once more held erect, the step became free and light, The slight rest and the food had done her good ; nor was the beautiful animal ungrateful for the kindness, “But, where is your steed, Dick? Bonny Black Bess?” “ Safely concealed in a thicket close by.” “Tt’s a splendid horse.” “Aye! Far better than your’s.” “We will try to-morrow. Lightfoot isin no fit state for racing to-night.” ‘“‘ With all my heart.” “‘ And where shall the course be ?” “ The high road,” ‘“ How long the distance 2?” “From milestone to milestone.” “Good! then our wager remains unaltered. There is a milestone by the Seven Bells,—that shall be our starting place, if you like.” “Very well. But the traps?” ‘They will never think of looking for us at their own head quarters,”’ By this time the friends had arrived at the thicket where Turpin had concealed his steed, and a first-rate hiding-place it was. The friends then mounted, and gently walked their steeds towards the dell where the gipsies were encamped, A lurid glow over the tops of the forest bushes pointed out the spot, even had there been no other signs of their presence, But there were other signs, There were rough shaggy horses, and half-starved donkeys picking up their evening meal. Above all these were shouts of laughter, as well as angry curses from the gipsies themselves, whose forms were hidden by the bushes amongst which they had encamped, Where is As the two highwaymen approached the camp, these sounds were hushed, and a rough voice called out— ’ ““Who rides through the forest by night—friends or foes?” “That’s Red Ishmael’s voice, I'll wager any money,” said Turpin. “You are right,’ replied Tom King. ‘Our Roumany friend has not the most musical voice, nor should I choose him as one of a party of glee singers,” “ Ha—ha—ha !” laughed Turpin. “‘ Ishmael loves the rattle of cudgels or the jingle of a good fat purse taken from a lonely traveller, far better than any of your silly glees or sonnets to the moon, But he is a brave and trusty ally.” The voice of the gipsy leader was again heard pealing through the dark aisles of the forest, “Speak, travellers; show whether you come for good orevil, If friends, come on and welcome— if foes, turn aside or prepare for a stout combat.” “We are friends, as you should know,” replied the clear, cheery voice of Tom King, ‘Friends, Ishmael,” said Turpin; “so stow your patter and swing the soup-kettle over the fire, I am as hungry-as any fox-hunter.” ‘Come on, friends,” replied the same voice, “But, if treachery is intended, beware.” The two friends rode forward into the light of the fire around which the gipsies were grouped, and dismounted from their horses, Tom King perceived in an instant that his fair friend Jael was of the number, and, by an adroit movement, managed to place himself by her side. A sinister scowl on Dick Turpin’s brow showed, that he did not approve of this arrangement, but, for the present, he said nothing, He had intended to captivate the fair Egyptian himself, and was sorely offended to see that she seemed in no way dis- pleased with the advances of his dashing comrade, “T would my bullet were in his heart,” he mut- tered between his teeth as he gazed on them, The wish was prophetic, . Who does not know the fate of the gallant and accomplished Tom King? “You see, my charmer, I am still alive,’ said Tom, stealthily passing his arm round the waist of the blushing girl. ‘‘ Neither friend nor foe has harmed me, and the officers have had a chase for nothing,” . “JT am glad to hear it, danger from him,” And she pointed towards Turpin. “Pshaw! he is a good fellow, though at times apt to be rough both with tongue and hand. You must not look upon him as a murderer because his brow is black and wears ascowl.” — “T care not for the look of his brow, but your life is in his hands,” “Then, my life is tolerably secure. But, tell me, my lovely lass, did that cowardly scoundrel, Wild, hurt you?” . (t9 No,” “He struck at you?” ““He did; but I avoided the blow.” . “The rascal! If I had him here he should have a good score from my thong, and not lightly laid But I am sure you are in on, Let him beware how he crosses my path.” At that instant Red Ishmael made a signal for silence, and every tongue was instantly hushed. “JT hear a sound of horses’ hoofs upon the high road. Be in readiness, my lads ; maybe the officers are coming back,” said Ishmael. “Coming back! What, have they been here?’ asked Tom King, ‘‘They have; on the look-out for a flying high- wayman.,” ‘Was Jonathan Wild of the party ?” ‘‘He was; curses on his black heart and ugly visage !” “ And Quilt Arnold?” ‘Was not with them.” “ Hist |” said Turpin, holding up a finger. Silence again prevailed, “JT hear another sound besides that of horses’ hoofs. Those horses drag a carriage behind them,” He sprang to his feet, OME KOO KGESEON