Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

| spective favourites, and a general row would un- doubtedly have been the consequence had not the president issued prompt and stern directions to some of his immediate supporters to maintain order. Meanwhile, Roving Jack and Hal Hetherington had initiated themselves into something like favour with the honourable’ conclave by ordering vowls of . punch all round. “ Dam’me, this is a true blood !” cried the chair- man, extending his hand. ‘‘Tip us your bunch of fives, and welcome to Bermuda! What say, my young kestrels, to claiming the privileges and im- munities of our society? Only costs you a hand- ful of smelts, and then you may have the freeman’s key to all the lurking cribs of the old Mint, to the liberties of Alsatia, and the protection of all the boys and roving blades in the Friars, who will be bound to defend you from writ and warrant, harming beck and bum-bailey.” “ Blood and ’ouns'! What are you talking about, Tom King?” cried a highwayman at the table; starting with alarm, ‘ Who would daré initiate the culls without the authority and sign manual of the King o’ the Rogies—Jonathan Wild ?” “ Jonathan Wild be d——d !” “Tom !” shrieked the lady who’ reclined in his arms, as she cast a trembling glance around, “are you tired of your life?” “Fudge!” returned the highwayman, With a merry laugh, ‘ Youallseem to fear that bumptious covey-catcher as if he were Beelzebub, and his tip- staff a pitch-fork ; but come, my dimber gallants, tip up the stivers, and, as vicegerent at the council- board, [ll take upon myself to bestow upon you the freedom of the sanctuary. Joe Hind, pass over the register. Your names, my bucks ; and which of you lily-livered curs here will stand godfathers to thesé bantam chicks, in defiance of old Jonathan, who is a bandog, a dubsman, a spy, a whiddler, a peach, and a ten times anathematised traitor and usurper !” ‘Hush, hush !” cried some of the thiéves, in great dismay. ‘We won't listen to any treason agen the guynor,” cried others. “Stash yer gaff, Tom King.” “Don’t kimbaw the flash coves any longer !” shouted a savage ruffian, swaggering up to the table and brandishing a monstrous whinger. “ What business have they here? It’s a trap. Chive the cursed spies ! © Down with the harming cheats!” The men rose from their seats, and fiercely seized the weapons. The women screamed in terror. Roving Jack was on his feet in an instant. The burly scoundrel who had raised this sudden storm, a broad-built fellow, with enormous nius- tachios, fiery nose, and deep-set, ferret eyes, dressed in an old discoloured and patched military uniform, advanced the point of his sword to Jack’s throat. Striking the weapon aside with his left arm, our hero planted his fist with a loud clap upon the huge ruffian’s blossomy nose, and floored him flat on his back, Jack instantly snatched up the weapon’ of his fallén foe, and presented it to the rascal’s breast, at the same time raising his left hand ‘Fair play’s a jewel,” he cried, in a dauntless; cheerful tone, “ Hear my explanation, ladies and gentlemen——” ' ‘Ben coves and dimber-niorts)”’ supplemented om, He leaned over the table, and emptied a flagon on the head of the recumbent ruffian, who writhed and swore most awfully, but made no attempt to rise. Jack's noble face, dauntless attitude, pleasant boyish voice, and the gratification generally felt at ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. ~ the discomfiture of the detested bully, caused @ } re-action in our hero’s favour. “Ha, ha! hear the game kinechen; let him say | his say,’ was now the ery, mingled with shouts of laughter at the bully’s expense, “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Jack, “I and my companion have come hither with no hostile intent, our purpose being to meet one of your associates) who has rendered me a service which Fam anxious. | to requite.” 5 ‘‘Name?’ shouted the gang. “ Jack Sheppard,” returned our hero. — ‘Where is Jack? Where’s the Blueskin?” asked the thieves, looking about in search of those worthies, ‘“ Here, Poll: Maggot;do you know this younker ?” ; | ‘Know him? Yes, bless his heart!’ returned the stalwart Poll, advancing, and ogling our hero’ | with such an amorous glance as brought the blood tingling to his smooth fresh cheek, and caus2d him to lower his eyes with a frown. ‘‘He’s a noble young gentleman ; only last night he saved poor blind Mab the ballad-girl from the insults and rough handling of the Mohocks. Never a knight- errant fought for distressed damsel more’ gallantly. Oh, he’s a good boy, and let me see who'll dare to hurt one hair of his pretty curly head. Come under the shadow of my wing, poppet. Now who dares attempt to harm ye?” : Poll slid her large but comely arm round Jack’s waist, and hugged him, blushing and struggling, to her side. o. In her right hand she twirled a stout cudgel, and. defiantly whistled a military air. Thus released from the pressure of Jack’s foot and the keen point of the sword pressed to his throat, the bully stumbled on to his feet, and, with swelling front and swashing air, swaggered up to Poll. ‘ “ Darkness and devils!’ he thundered, “let me get at this insolent pap-fed ecully; Ill hack the pigmy chit into wafers! Blood and woun’s! shall a veteran’s beard be plucked by paltry kids and women? Broil me first! Tossmeover my pinking _ iron, sirrah, and draw your own cheese-toaster, and _ then prepare yourself to die untimely death, you silken spaniel whelp !” ‘‘ Who is this ass in lion’s hide?” asked our hero, laughing with genuine amusement at this bombastic tirade. ‘‘ His bray is tremendous.” ‘“Hurraw!”’ shouted the robbers. “A plucky kinchen! a brave slip! A ring! Avxing! Let the atagy quiet the swaggering, cowardly cur—he can | do it. Let ’em fight it out !” Our hero laughed merrily. He broke from Poll’s embrace atid flung the long _ basket-hilted sword at the bully’s feet, ‘Let me know my adversary’s name,” said Jack, smiling, as he drew his slim, blue, gleaming steel. “Iam bound by the rules of my order not to fight with any bet gentlemen; and I mean to unsheath my sword in no cause that is not a goodone. YetI think that the distinction between an Oppressor or a scoundrel in a silk coat and one in fustian is not worth regarding ; so let me know what name is to be in- scribed on his coffin-plate, speaking in his own heroic vein. Pray, madam, release my atm; you put me in imminent peril, for, you see, this treacherous hound is capable of taking the basest advantage.” This last request was addressed to Poll Maggot, who had caught his sword arm, and was dragging him back, eal Nor was it uncalled for, had snatched up his sword lunge at him, as the dastardly bully and made a desperate (al ooo) KS,,(€) com