Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 270: what you’re looking at

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

290 row of two latticed windows dimmed, could imper- fectly force its way in. The doubtful and melancholy twilight was in- ~ creased by a quantity of creeping plants on the outside walls, which, being neglected, they had completely overgrown. In some plaves the vegetation had greatly dimi- nished ; in others, quite choked up the space of the trellis-work of the casements mentioned. Altogether, the aspect was so desolate and the place appeared so well adapted for mischief, sup- posing those were enemies that were near him, that our hero could not help pausing at the entrance and recommending himself to the mercy of the omni- potent. CHAPTER CXXVII. | THE STRONG BOX IN THE NEGLECTED GARRET— THE DISCOVPRY OF THE WILL—NAT WETHERBY ARRIVES MOST INOPPORTUNELY—SOME LITTLE INSIGHT INTO THE GAME OF “HIGH TOBY ”— HOW VIOLET SUCCEEDED IN LOCKING THE CON- FEDERATES IN THE CUPBOARD, AND WHAT SHE GOT BY §O DOING. VIOLET TREMAINE had no sooner quitted the apart- ment where she so fortunately had concealed herself than she hastened to the attic in which the coveted will proclaiming her husband a beggar was de- posited. . This will, it was necessary for her to possess, but her endeavour to obtain it was beset with almost insurmountable difficulties, In the first place, the chamber, almost devoid of furniture, was likewise totally dark. : The shutters being so firmly fastened that they refused to open to her exertions. After a time they yielded, but only afforded light enough to reveal the dilapidated condition of the neglected room, This perplexity was followed by others equally adverse. How was she to discover the hidden document, and, if found, how could she prevent its observa- tion, seeing that into whosever hands it fell must - lead to her husband’s ruin? Violet Tremaine, more uncertain in her purpose every moment as the necessity of its execution drew near, stole over the floor as the housebreaker treads in the chamber he is about to plunder. 5 In doing so, she came upon a box, It appeared to have something valuable in it, for the lock, though old, was a very strong one. Intending to satisfy herself with regard to the contents of the newly-found chest, the resolute woman groped about the room for some implement with which she might force it open, In this she succeeded. She commenced her labour. With it some good spirit hovered o’er her and directed her search, There was a deeper glow than usual upon her cheek, and her fingers trembled as she raised them to complete the task. At this moment footsteps were heard. Some one was ascending the stairs leading to the room she had entered. The intruder, whoever he might be, was rapidly advancing. No time was to be lost. The. box remained unopened, while its tough spring seemed to hold with the tenacity of a vice, Finding her efforts useless, Violet, after a mo- ment’s deliberation, started back, and reclined as if sleeping on the floor. ee ee COUCC<‘é‘“.CO;!”*!C Se eCOMICHOO ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. She had scarcely assumed this position when Nat Wetherby made his appearance in the chamber. He bore a lamp in his hand: its lurid glare dis- closed his features, and gave a dusky outline of the various objects around him. Staggering in semi-intoxication, the highwayman exclaimed,— ‘ Now for the will; it is in the strong box. Egad!” he continued, easting his eyes on the floor upon which it still remained, “ I’d sooner be out half a dozen nights on Hounslow Heath than have such anotlaer job as this, There’s a satisfaction in standing before a man and calling upon him to stand and deliver that’s not to be found in a petti- fogging robbery like this! “No! ‘Hurrah for the road!’ says Nat We- therby, where, mounted on a tit, snapper in hand, and a mask on the mug, you can prig like a ‘ gentleman.’ ”’ It wags at this moment that the highwayman’s features were lighted up with a gaze of profound astonishment. ~ His eye had accidentally rested on the recumbent form of Violet, dressed in male habiliments. Whether he had found any qualms in his heart, or that conscience had troubled his mind with ghostly apprehension, does not appear. All that is known is, that at the sight of the sleeping youth, Nat Wetherby darted back as if a serpent was about to spring upon him. He struck his hand forcibly against his forehead, as if to clear his brains of the fumes of the liquor which had muddled them. Labouring under the same, and the superstition common io the age, he fancied that an apparition stood before him ; for he knew the house was too well guarded to admit wandering mortals. Appearing to be disturbed in slumber, Violet arose and confronted her scared companion, She knew he must be one of the robbers—that nothing but deception could aid her—and, conse- quently, addressed the party in terms most familiar, “Ha, my friend,” she cried, ‘‘ how do, how do?” ‘Well, my friend,’ stammered out Nat We- therby, “my friend whom I never saw before in all my life, how do you do?” As he spoke he exercised his eyes as keenly, as possible, to detect whether the individual before him was really flesh and blood, and not a ghost. The highwayman was soon convinced that the previous supposition was erroneous. He was not dealing with, but drinking spirits, for his com- plaisant associate had almost immediately on intro- duction produced a brandy flask. This action was proof positive, for Nat Wetherby had ever entertained the opinion “that the stiff uns always went in for the total abstinence prin- ciple.” We quote Nat Wetherby’s own words, But dissertation apart, Violet, by a well-conceived plan, managed to put an end to the scruples or doubts of her companion, and the excellence of the ‘lush *’ she had handed him made them soon on the most excellent terms with each other. ‘‘ Have you been out to night?” said Violet, as- suming the air of a highwayman, in which character she had appeared. ““What—on the heath ?” <t Y@s,77 . “Oh! you know me then ?” ‘‘T know you are a knight of the post, but forget your name.” “My name is Nat Wetherby. Slashing Nat We- therby, as I am called ; and my service to you,” he continued, taking a lusty “pull” at the brandy that was now again offered to him by Violet.