Penny Dreadfuls, 1867 · page 266 of 300
Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 266: what you’re looking at
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# Page Analysis: Running Prose from Victorian Penny Dreadful This page contains running prose narrative from Chapter CXXV of *Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter*, a Victorian penny dreadful. The text follows the character Simon Smut, a penniless rogue formerly involved in criminal activity, who encounters a woman (Edgeworth Bess) at a tavern. She supplies him liquor and informs him that Sir John Fielding, a justice, is waiting for him, apparently to conduct some unspecified errand. The narrative emphasizes Smut's moral degradation through drink and hints at criminal intrigue, typical of the sensational melodrama characteristic of penny dreadful fiction.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
——a 286 : : ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. oOo eee eee CHAPTER CXXV. A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED—THE - TRUSTY MESSENGER, WE must now shake hands with an old acquaint- ance, and once more make a friend of the reckless, jovial, and and merry Simon Smut, , So long as he had money he revelled in folly, and led a joyous life, How fascinating is the front. How deformed and unsightly behind. At the present moment he was without a coin in his pocket, | | He had sold his linen, and the proceeds had vanished in drink, Every farthing he possessed. soon galloped off in grog and toddled in toddy. ‘Ah, Simon Smut, your bright taper is put out and replaced by a scurvy candle,” he apostrophized; in drunken. gravity, as he wended his way along one of the, bye streets, of Petty France, | ‘‘ People may well mock at you now since you will hence- forth have nothing but water to drink.” Dunned by remorse and. imaginary creditors, the intoxicated reprobate continued, “I nmst. turn from these evil ways, and come forth into the world with a heart full of contrition, ‘Yes, I must reform, confess my fanlts, and be penitent. “Dll cut prigging at once, and become.a respect- able member of society by going back to my old trade of chimney-sweeping.”’ The resolution of Simon Smut was somewhat damped at this moment by a pail.of water. The contents of the vessel having been inadvert- ently thrown out of a neighbouring window upon his luckless head. ‘Well, they might have let me had a hint of the important arrival,” thought Simon Smut, who un- concernedly took no notice of the affront further than shaking himself, poodle fashion, from the exuberant moisture. ‘I always heard that the locality Iam traversing wasn’t, famous for polite- ness and manners, now I’ve a ‘‘ gushing ” specimen of the fact.” With these words, Simon Smut hurried to a neighbouring public-house. He was dripping, damp and shivering. A drop of something warm would keep out’ the cold, It was while standing at the door of a tavern that the unlucky wight remembered he’d no. cash to pay fox the liquor, But Providence, which guards its creatires, came to his rescue, in the shape of a woman, calrying in her hand a full-bellied bottle containing the re- quired beverage, Simon Smut no sooner descried this damsel than he gave the signal used by the knights of the road, who, he knew, infested the quarter. His summons was answered, and himself greeted with the familiar words, “Ts that you?” “ Of course it’s me,” said Simon, resolutely; ad- dressing the unknown, and taking the bottle she was holding in her hand, ‘Don’t ask any questions till. I’ve wetted my whistle,” he continued, satisfying himself by a copious draught from the vessel he had abstracted from his companion. ‘‘T began to think you would never come,’ said she, after Simon had finished his libations, ‘Oh, then, you did expect me?” answered the practice. of ‘excess in tsetse oe latter, artfully preserving the error the woman had fallen into, and which was materially aggravated by the darkness of the place. “Of course; I relied upon you, since you gave me your word you would come.” ‘Yes, I’m always as good as my word,” replied ‘Simon Smut, conceitedly; “especially when there is anything to be got by it.” ‘But you must speed on your errand lest any suspicion should be aroused, - Sir John Fielding, the justice, is now waiting for you,” continued Edgeworth Bess, “The devil he is!” muttered Simon Smut, and evidently astonished to find he had placed himself in something like a dilemma. “Of course you remember that I have promised the magistrate to betray Nat Wetherby into his bands to-night, so you must conduct him and his men hither,” ‘Well, you see,” said Simon Smut, addressing Edgeworth Bess obsequiously, and seeming to have hit upon a plan of withdrawing himself from a difficulty, “though I am at all times ready to oblige a lady, still, in the present instance, I think I can hardly do so,” “How? Do you refuse to——” ‘No, I don’t refuse, only I’d rather not,” “What reason can you possibly have for s0 suddenly altering your determination 2’? “Tll be candid with you, mum,” said Simon Smut; “you must know I’ve a strong aversion to appear in any matters in which the police authorities are interested. I once did so, and got more than I anticipated for my pains. A silver spoon got into my soot-bag; quite an accident, of course. But the big-wigs wouldn’t have it,” -“ You forget that this is a very different case, and that a large sum is offered for the man we are giving up,” said Edgeworth Bess; “and also that half of the reward will find its way into your pocket.” “True,” said Simon Smut, clapping his fore- finger to his nose, and assuming an attitude of meditation, The voice of Nat Wetherby was now heard, and calling for the liquor he had ordered to be supplied. Edgeworth Bess, who, as the reader may suppose, had been the companion of Simon Smut, hastily quitted his side at the summons, and entered the house from whence the sound proceeded. Before doing so she requested her associate to remain within hail that she might again commu- nicate with him, Still wrapped in thought Simon Smut seated himself in a neighbouring nook to await the return of Edgeworth Bess, when his eyes fell upon a person who was rapidly advancing towards him, It was a youth of about nineteen, with a slight figure; almost approaching to effeminacy. But, in spite of his appearance, which also pro- claimed timidity, there was a fire in the eye of this stripling which showed he possessed both spirit and resolution. He was attired in a riding dress, fashioned ac- cording to the taste of the time, and in keeping with those habiliments highwaymen were wont to wear, As this individual arrived at the spot upon which Simon Sut was standing, Edgeworth Bess again made her appearance, and in the dark, mistaking him for her confederate, whispered these words, in a, low tone, 2 “You are still here, I find; so much the better -