Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

————_——— a 160 ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. 6 if He continued his way. but a night's shelter and bait for myself and my — The poor horse limped painfully and panted with anguish. Tom broke a stick of dry wood from a tree. Striking a light with his steel and tinder, he set fire to the branch. Eximining the horse’s hoofs he f ound that a _ sharp flint had pierced one of them. He tried to extract it. His endeavours were fruitless. Obliged to abandon the attempt, he dashed out the light, and once more led, or rather dragged along the poor horse through tle gloomy woods. All at once he perceived a dim light glancing through the wet leaves, At first he took it for a wold-fire, or a glimmering Will-o’-the- wisp. 1 Watching it steadily, however, he soon perceived that it was stationary. “Some cottage,” he thought, “ I can, perhaps, get there sometling to apply to my poor nag’s foot,” He led his horse on. After walking for some distance, he came in sight of the house. It was larve but low, being but one story high. A rickety sign-post stood before the door, and swayed backwards and forwards, in the wind, threatening every moment to topple over. Tom King paused for a moment to gaze at the lone and weird-looking place. The windows of a large upper chamber were ablaze with light and the sounds of loud laughter and revelry resounded from within. Tom Kine was not a little surprised at what he heard and s:.w considering the solitude of the place, and its distance from the high road, and from any town or village. “Come,” said he, as a sudden impression forced itself upon his mind, “this may not tura out so bad, after all. ’Tis a party of fellow chips,‘comrades of the high pad, perhaps, or a party of deerstealers carousing ; at all events, I'll put a bold face on the matter.” He stepped to the door, and hammered at it lustily with his riding whip. ‘“ House ho!” he hallooed. friend calls. House! house !” There was a sudden hush. So still was all within, that the loud ticking of an old case clock could be distinctly heard, ‘Ha! ha!’ laughed the highwayman. ‘“ ’Tis as I thought, the rogues take me for a Bow Street runner,”’ Again he knocked loudly, He cot no answer. He tried the door. It was fastened from within. ‘“Phew !” he muttered. “’Tis a queer drum, and the lads within are over cautious,” **< O, I’m a tip-top toby gloak, Tantarrara, tantarrarara, With hand of steel, and heart of oak, Tantarrara, tantarrarara. I wrest what I will, With a diver’s skill, Irom those rummy blokes as labour, Sing tantarrara, rogues all, rogues all!’ ” “Open locks, A He paused. A footstep. ‘Who's there?” : “A friend, my roaring boys, Open, and let me in.” “Beware ! I am armed !”’ “So am I,” ‘What do you want ?” ‘What the devil should I want at an ale-house 24: JAG, horse ?” “The house is closed.” ‘So I perceive ; but it can be opened, I take it.” ‘© Who are you?” “A friend,” “Give the word,”’ “T give ic you; J am a friend, dam’me |” ‘- What's your name ?” “ Jonathan Wild,” seWild |” ‘But none the less welcome in honest company, I trust.” «‘ Are you alone ?” SNOT “Who is with you ?” “* My horse.” «And you are Wild?”’ ‘“ Dam’me, no; but I’m getting ‘wild’ enough at this infernal delay. Let me in, and be hanged to you.” , . " “ There’s another inn a mile on.” ‘ But a bird in hand is worth two in a bush.” “TJ can’t admit you.” ‘‘Then I must admit myself.” “<'l'ake care ; 1f you force the door I'll blow your brains out !” ‘Blow away, my boy: I'm one of the right sort, © I tell you. All’s bowman, my noble.” ‘Stand clear, then ; I will take a peep at you from the window.” “And a pop at me at the same time.” ‘No, fair and square ; but I must see you,”’ ‘So, then, I am one of those phenomena that must be seen to be believed, eh? Look sharp, then. Iam ready to face you if you'll only countenance me.” At this moment a window was thrown open, and a head thrust ont. Tom King looked up. He started in great astonishment. The face was black, and, surmounted with a powdered wig, looked the more comical. “ Who's there?” cried the black man. ut stranger, your majesty,” returned the land- lord. “ Majesty !”’ repeated Tom King, “ Zounds! but here’s an adventure! So I’m to be presented to royalty—Satanic majesty, I should judge, from the royal phiz, or that hilarious potentate Old King Cole, perhaps.”’ ‘ “What fellow are you?” cried the man at the window, ‘* Your fellow, indeed !"” laughed the robber, ‘‘ fot me host says you are a king, and I am a ‘king’ 00 !’ “A king! What king?’’ “ “ King Thomas, otherwise Tom King.” ‘“What ! Tom King, the highwayman?” ‘Tf I answered ‘ Yes,’ what would you do— betray me?” ‘Not I, forsooth—you shall be made welcome to our royal company.” j ‘“What monarch are you?” : ‘‘Oronoko, king of the blacks," laughed the other. Then he called down the stair— ‘All right, Parvin, he’s jannock—let him in.” A burst of laughter and a loud hum of conversa- tion now succeeded to restraint and silence. “T have it now,” thought Tom, “TI have fallen in with the Waltham Blacks, a crew of whimsical merry fellows, that are so mad as to run any hazards for a haunch of venison or spending a jolly evening, For my part, I always took the stories I heard of them for fables—'Gad, but I relish this adventure!” TT LL Eomichooks.com