Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER, “ Kill the skeldering eur!” growled Tom. “He ellis himself Captain Hector MacDubber ; he says he was a soldier, and fought under Marlborough at Ramilies and Malplaquet; but the lying poltroon was drubbed out of his regiment for desertion and cowardice, and the only wounds he can show are the scars of the. cat-scrateching on his lubberly shoulders, or the brand on his side. Pah! never ‘stain clean steel with his gutter blood. Leave him to Poll’s cudgel, my gallant juvenile.” By all the fiends of war, you shall pay for this, Tom King !” . The highwayman affected a start of terror at this threat, and then, with a hearty laugh, coolly raised his heavy boot and kicked the bragging das- tard across the room. “Corpo de Bacco! Thunder and blood !” roared the captain, once more scrambling on to his feet. He rushed at our hero with a frantic lunge. Jack quietly avoided thé stab, and, walking calmly up to him, made a straight, swift thrust. The valiant captain tossed up his arms, and his © huge sword fell clanking on the floor ; he staggered for an instant, and then fell flat on his back, yelling most dismally, His dingy shirt and ruffles were drenched in blood. “ Pinked ! by Jehoshaphat !” cried Tom, bending over him. : “Help! Murder! Watch!” roared the coward, writhing and glaring about him in mortal dismay. ‘A surgeon! I am murdered! A priest! Ah! my guilty conscience! I must confess, I cannot die yet. Will no one have pity on me? O-oh!” Tom King had lifted the fellow’s right arm, and found that his wound was merely a flesh cut a little above the elbow. Upon making this discovery he turned a ‘signifi- eant glance upon the surrounding faces, dropped the limb, and, standing ower the prostrate bully, worked his black silky moustache, looked down upon him with such a serious !phiz that the latter read qa confirmation of his worst fears, and was beside himself with terror. ‘“The miserable young villain!” groaned the captain, raising himself on his hands. “ My blood be upon his head. Justice! Justice! I take you all to witness that murder has been done. Arrest him! What, you laugh! You heartless fiends, to laugh at dying agonies: but I’ll have some venge- ance on ye. What, ho! watch!. Murder! Mur- der |” ‘‘ What the devil is all this hullabaloo ?”’ "panted Joe Hind, the landlord, rushing in. “ We shall have the shoulder clappers down in the twinkling of a bed-post.”’ “T am murdered, Joe !’’ moaned the unfortunate eaptain. ‘‘Il ama dead man!” ‘Well, if you are, you needn’t make such a row about it.” “Blood for blood!” roared the captain. “T’ll hang you all! Fetch the watch! Bring a surgeon! I bleed to death! Murder !” ' “Silence the howling cur,” cried Joe Hind, in great alarm, *‘and get the gentry coves out of the house. Gag the shrieking pig; beat his brains out !” Profiting by this admirable suggestion for quiet- ing the terror-struck dastard, Poll. Maggot stepped coolly up to him-and stunned him by a blow on the head with a cudgel. ‘Carry him into some snoozing-crib, Joe Hind, and let old Nightshade, the apothecary, look to 47 him,” said Tom King, “ And now, my pals, let us resume our revels. Never heed that lubber, his wound is a mere scratch ; and ag for his thick skull, Poll’s eudgel suffered most in the coneussion, Fill up the punch-bowls, Joe; let us drink the health of this gallant young roysterer.” Captain Hector MacDubber being borne from the room, the late fracas was soon forgotten, and the robbers abandoned themselyes to a noisy carousal, “Hark ye, young sirs,’”’? said Tom King, to our hero and his companion, “I will make bold. to speak roundly with you, Though I admire your courage and commend your desire to keep faith with Jack Sheppard, I think you haye been guilty of a great piece of foolhardiness in venturing into this province without a pass from the great Jonathan ; but you are safe for this night, at least. I am lieutenant of a gallant troop of dragoons ; our captain is the famous Dick Turpin. We are strong enough to protect you from violence, but I should advise you to get out of these quarters as soon as possible, and appoint some other rendezvous to meet Jack Sheppard.” “T am about to leave England,” returned our hero, “and I have determined upon seeing Jack before I set sail. I have ascertained that he will be here within an hour, and for any danger that may threaten I am willing to outface it.” “Say you so, my prince? Then, push about the bowl, and let’s get glorious |! “Oh, wine! all the muses Have still sung thy praises, And through time’s long ages All poets and sages Have tippled——’”’ Here he suddenly stopped and glanced at his mistress, who had slipped from his knee and placed herself between Jack and Hal, and was striving to allure them with her siren smiles and tender speeches, $e “Ab, Kate,” laughed Tom, “have ye found “metal more attractive?? Do ye want to see me gpitted like the poor captain by this ruffling bantam? Ob, woman! woman !” And once more the gay fellow burst forth, ** Do not say I am deceived, That Chloe’s false and common, All along I have believed She was a—vyery woman!” At this moment there was a sudden and general shout— ‘The Blueskin |” Our hero started. He turned his eyes towards the door, Booted and spurred, and wrapped in a long riding-coat, the celebrated associate of the still more notorious criminal, Jack Sheppard, entered the room accompanied by Edgeworth Bess. The company made way for him, and, sceing Tom King at the head of the table, he marched up to him and shook hands. “Ha, ha! my knight of the snaffle, welcome to Romeville !’”’ he said. Then he turned his glance upon our hero, He sprang back. “ Hulloa! what strange kinchen is this?” he thundered. “A friend, Joe Blake,” returned Tom King; ‘he’s a good boy, and under my protection.” *S’blood! Do you know who he is?” “ No, and care not ; he’s a young hero.” *°Tis Roving Jack 1” sheathing his whinger. “ Roving Jack |” yelled the robbers, each starting to his feet. Every sword leaped from its scabbard ; pistols roared’ Blueskin, un-