Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 217: what you’re looking at

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

ee eS ee ee ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. 237 a NS... SSS »j On a rude bench, in front of the house, sat two young people alone, and apparently lovers. The one was the figure of a gipsy maid, with jet black hair twisted in endless folds, garnished with golden beads and a scarlet kerchief, Sparkling as the sunbeams was her dark and Oriental eye, while her costume, though of gaudy hue, was in exquisite taste with her exquisite person. The other appeared a gallant of the day, without any pretension, and in possession of a remarkable handsome countenance, This spark was the noted high toby gloak, Tom King; his companion, Jael, the damsel he had rescued on the previous night, “Though it was dark, you recognised me, eh ?” said Tom King, placing his arm round the neck of ‘the gipsy maiden, ‘Oh, yes, in an instant,” she replied, with a smile, and a look of inexpressible kindness, “ How was it, then,” resumed Tom King, “ that you slipped away from me in such a hurry?” The soft smile of the Sybil faded away, and her features became overcast. “ Why is this, dear girl?” said the highwayman; gazing upon her in astonishment ; ‘‘ you must, if you regard me, tell more of this affair.” Jael still continued silent. In your stead you left me with a strange- looking fellow, that report gives out is in league with that snpernatural being the Flying Dutchman, What the devil could he want with yon ?” “T don’t know.” “Curse his impudence! A rascally vagrant to attempt to run away with a girl like a nobleman ; but he dearly paid for it, my riding whip curried his rough hide most soundly.” “And yet,’ continued the highwayman, ‘‘can I wonder at his presumption when I take into con- sideration what a charming creature you are?” Tom King’s ordnance had suddenly taken fire at bright Egyptian eyes. Jael first hung down her head at the remark. Then gently raised it, disclosing a countenance glistening with pride and joy. At that moment she was passing beautiful. It was now that her admirer remarked a small cross that hung round her neck. ‘What is that?” he asked, “That is my secret,” the girl answered, gravely. “Then I should like to know what that secret 1S. Without making any reply, the gipsy drew herself towards the roadway. The nearer she approached it, the more slowly she moved, An invisible loadstone seemed to attract her to the spot, and she burst into tears. “To what am I to attribute this sadness ?” said Tom King, evidently puzzled by the strange motives of Jael. “You are not going to leave me thus, I hope.” ‘ There is an insurmountable barrier between us. We must not meet again, and if I might give you counsel, it would be to forget me.” It is unnecessary to detail what further passed between Tom King and his inamorata, and his sur- prise when he learnt her decision from her own lips, Tt will be easily imagined how he entreated and protested ; but all to no purpose. Jael was not to be moved by either vows or prayers. She could not cease to love, yet she could never marry him. Tom King knelt. ab ael and Jael alone was the sun that. shone upon im, He had striven to forget her ; but in vain. He now deplored his reckless life, and blamed himself for having wandered from the paths of honesty. But he would reform—he wished to reform—he intended to reform. A wife would change the dashing knight of the post into a simple and hard-plodding yeoman, Jael should see how steady he would be in future. He was tired of the road, and would quit it for a less hazardous life. She might shake her head, but his declarations were true for all that, It was nonsense to tell him of other women, Jael and none but Jael should be his bride. By persisting in a refusal she would drive him to desperation. > There had been a spectator of the scene that had passed between Tom King and his fair companion. Unobserved, he had watched them intently from an upper window of a neighbouring house. This was no other than the patrico * or priest of the gipsy tribe, better known to our readers in his former character of Dick Turpin, the highway- man. The voice of Jael had struck upon his ear, and he remained gazing upon her in an attitude of pro- found reverie. At the casement he stood absorbed, grave, and without motion, qe was all thought, ear, and eye. t was difficult to say what was the nature of his glance, or the fire that flashed from it. It was a fixed gaze, yet a gaze full of disquiet and commotion. From his profound and death-like repose of body there appeared no life about him but in his over- strained organs of vision. From the moment he had perceived Jael, his deep gloom had become deeper still. All at once he started up. His whole frame shuddered as trees shaken by a gust of wind, Darting from the window at which he had re- mained during the discourse of Jael and Tom King, he descended with a view to confront them in their stolen interview. On his arrival at the spot where they had been standing, in place of the lovers he beheld another object which struck him almost as forcibly. It was the Dutchman—Wirth Wolfgang. The patrico advanced a few steps, stopped short, then looked stedfastly at him. His look had nothing in it ironical or sarcastic, It was a gaze, serious, piercing, calm, After a pause he broke silence. “Tf IJ am not greatly deceived, I am in the presence of Wirth Wolfgang?” “Yah, mynheer, dat is right ; 1am he,” “How happensit that I find you in the Mint, after——” “Stop, mein friend; let me gif you some soot advice. If you want to get on in de world, never trouble your head vith vhat don’t consarnt you, and never ax imbertinent questions.” ~ ‘Your advice is sound, Wirth, but ill-timed and out of place.” “Berhaps so; but I am hongry and dirsty, and PO el I ee A ee * History tells us that at one period of his career, Turpin was duly inaugurated asa patrico in a gipsy band; whether for the purposes of concealment or otherwise 16 1s not made manifest. GOmiilGdooksrco a]