Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 280: what you’re looking at

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

300 ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. —~™PePenme—eEETTT ee ee reas companions, and conveyed in secrecy to an old barn in the neighbourhood of Kilburn, When night arrived it was left in the sole charge of the leader of this band, who undertook to guard the corpse till morning. Left by himself Blueskin, for a short time, pon- dered as he gazed upon the remains of the gallant highwayman, ‘Ah, Jack,” he exclaimed, “I’m not a tame hound to be cowed by a look, but as your corpse lies before me I feel how fearful is the contem- plation of death! Cold and inanimate clay bends a heart of iron, and teaches man his utter insignificance ! But morality,’ continued the robber, ‘‘comes with ill grace from such lips as mine, and thought unnerves me for the work I have to do. It is almost the appointed time he promised to be here. I had better see that he doesn’t mistake the road.” Blueskin here rose and re-placed the covering he had taken from the body of Jack Sheppard, whose repose in death he seemed to fancy he had violated. Folding the grave-clothes decently, he for a while quitted the corpse, Blueskin quietly pursued his’ way from the barn along a sweeping glade, The trees of this path were so close that the branches made darkness over his head. Traversing this he came upon the open road, upon which the moonbeams lay in silvery silence, Tf Blueskin thought of anything saving the pain- ful scene he had just witnessed, it was of the necessary guard to be observed in his night walk. The time was dangerous and unsettled. Scouts from the late execution were abroad, In short, the danger of the place and period were such that the robber wore his loaded pistols in his belt and a cutlass, that he might be preparea for whatever peril should chance come across him. He heard a distant bell proclaim seven of the evening, as he emerged from the wooded lane, ‘‘?Tis the hour he named,” cried Blueskin, ‘‘and he is true to his word.” For, with the last stroke of the clock, the speaker heard the sound of wheels, As it became more distinct it was plain that the expected party was advancing nearer. The next moment a carriage with men in liveries was seen approacbing, | It suddenly stopped at the spot where Blueskin was standing. On the door of the vehicle being opened, a young man alighted from it. He was dressed in arich garb, but carrieda mask for the purpose apparently of disguise. Despite of this, however, the attendant recog- nized our hero, Roving Jack, He was followed by another person, who was also supplied with a visor and an ample cloak, The cloak, with its adjunct, most effectually con- cealed the face and figure of their wearer. He was no other than Wirth Wolfgang. After a few words passing between the new- comers and Blueskin, the latter conducted his friends to the place where the body of Jack Shep- pard was deposited. Silently they carried the same through the sylyan grove, and, carefully hid from the view of the ser- vants in waiting, placed it in the carriage, These were enjoined to secresy, and requested to return home by a different route. These people had no sooner departed than Blue- skin, attended by our hero and Wirth Wolfgang, seized the reins, and hurriedly drove off from the scene of the late adventure. Their destination will appear on further perusal of this chapter. ** * * * * The scene now changes to a chamber of dungeon- like aspect. , It is a laboratory, and filled with all the lumber proper to the retreat of an alchymist, and an adept in the occult sciences. At a quaint and grotesque table is seated such a worthy. The dull ‘flame of a lamp disclosing his person, dressed in an ample black velvet garb, and scull cap. He appears apparently buried in a deep calcula- tion, and occupied in deciphering the mystical characters written on a parchment before him. At the feet of this student lay a dull and shape- less figure, screened by a cloth. . The white Govering being stained, here and there by spots of recently flowing blood. Beside this stood another stately form. It was that of our hero, Roving Jack. ; Suddenly the latter was aroused from a reverie into which he had fallen by the voice of him who had been studiously engaged in his‘company. “At length de work is accomplished,” said Wirth Wolfgang, in whom the reader must recognise the hermetic philosopher we have lately alluded to, for the Dutchman was addicted to those pursuits which the age esteemed as little better than sorcery. “De draught composed of de ingredients con- tained in dis manuscript,” continued Wirth, point- ing to the parchment before him, “will give life.” ‘‘To foil King Death when his jaws are opening to receive a victim is indeed a glorious triumph, Wirth,” exclaimed Roving Jack. “Yes,” replied the other, ‘‘ dat which at first was unintelligible, is now made clear asday to me.” “This elixir then——” ~* . “Vill restore de dead to the living, vill renew youth, and give length of life to de possessor.” ‘How on earth, Wirth Wolfgang, have you ob- tained this extraordinary recipe ?” ‘Dat ish my ‘secret, mynheer,’’ cried he, “ You are a goot man, and shall knowit von day. De scroll is de labour of Chaldaic sages, who first fanned to a flame de Promethean spark. In a myriad of ages dat knowledge come to de doomed ‘Vanderdecken ’—‘ The Flying Dutchman.’ Ja! whose representative on earth I now am.” ‘‘You fancy, then,’’ continued our hero, “you will be able to re-animate and once again endow with life this perishing mass ?” With these words, the speaker pointed to the object lying at his feet, which being at length un- covered, disclosed the dead body of Jack Shep- pard. “Fancy? I can re-animate it!” echoed Wirth Wolfgang. ‘De matter is beyond all doubt. I hold de mystic preservative dat gives man immor- tality.” The Dutchman now pursued his apparently im- pious task with alacrity, : Consulting ever and anon the mystic parchment, as he proceeded in the confection of the ‘elixir vite,” or * elixir of life.” In a short time, our hero beheld the alchemist pour the decoction he had prepared from variously Go and peculiarly-labelled bottles, into a small phial. It appeared a bright, transparent liquid, by the lurid glare of the charcoal fire, befure which he was standing. Eomichooks:co