Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. 59 a ae, cooly took the martinet or cat into his long wiry hands, Crouching backwards he deliberately swayed round his right arm, The lash fell with a seething sweep. _ Poor Kate uttered a wild and piteous shriek of intolerable agony, Then her soft, snow-white flesh appeared seamed with streaks of bloody red, and she writhed des- perately with her bonds. Once more the hangman stepped coolly back, and took deliberate aim at his wretched mark, Already the cruel lashes were twirling in the air, when Tom King burst through the crowd. He stole behind the hangman, and, quick as thought, whipping out his sword, ran him straight through the body! The unfortunate wretch sank in a heap upon the stones. _ Tom King set his foot upon the body, and, draw- ing a pistol with one hand, while with the other he clutched his reeking sword, glared defiantly around. For an instant an electric thrill of horror and amazement at, this unparalleled and daring crime seemed to course through the veins of the appalled spectators, who stood petrified as by the glance of Medusa, ~ . Then burst forth a wild, thunderous roar of con- sternation. “Treason! murder! Strike down the assassin ! Seize the bloody villain!” was shrieked and shonted on all sides, Swords flew glittering from scabbards, bludgeons and staves were upreared. Jonathan Wild, Quilt Arnold, and other police- officers sprang forward. Tom, however, extended his right arm and pointed his pistol blank at Wild’s head. But the indomitable Jonathan, nothing recking, dashed at the assassin, Tom fired ; the slug from his pistol struck Wild’s hand, which fell powerless by his side. As for the girl bound to the whipping-post, she had turned her blanched, distorted face at the mo- ment the dreadful deed- was perpetrated, and, uttering a dreadful scream, sank down in a deep swoon. Tom King rushed to her and passed his left arm around her waist. ‘“What are ye howling about, ye cruel, heartless ban-dogs?” roared Tom. ‘“ Do ye blench at the sight of this brutal hangman’s blood, and have you no eyes for this ?” So saying, he lifted the fainted girl’s long and luxuriant tresses, and wrung out clots of her gore. *“‘She was-frail—she had fallen! But she had committed no crime against national law; and was she an object deserving of such a bestial, bloody punishment as this? Off, you snarling curs! Or, if there is 4 man among you, let him stand to my side !” Swift as thought he severed the rope that bound the girl’s arms to the stake, then seizing her firmly on his left arm, he bounded into the midst of the startled crowd, slashing right and left with his sword, He had thus cut his way into the heart of the throng. He now found himself pressed on all sides by a number of low, ruffianly fellows. A slim, pale-faced youth touched him on the shoulder. “You, too, Jack Sheppard !” growled the robber, turning fiercely. “Whist! Ill save ye!” muttered Jack. ‘These fellows are friends. We'll pretend to seize you ; you must struggle amain—barking dogs don’t bite —we'll hustle you out of the crowd.” “Ttwig! Toit then!” returned King. “Here he is! hold him fast!” roared Jack, catching hold of Tom’s collar. ‘Stop the villain ! cut him to pieces !”” thundered Blueskin, ““T have him! I have him!” yelled another. So, tumbling, and scrambling, and affecting the utmost zeal for his capture, the mob of confederates pulled, dragged, shoved, and hustled Tom to the barriers of the execution place, while he pretended to be resisting with the utmost desperation. At last he reached the wall of St. Sepulchre’s ehurch, and, hurling the nearest pursuers back- wards, he sprang over it, and dodging behind the grave-stones made for Snow Hill. Jack Sheppard leaped over the wall and fired after him, of course taking good care not to hurt him, Blueskin followed this example. During the sham struggle Jack had informed Tom that a horse was standing at the door of a certain tavern at the foot of Holborn Hill, Thitherwards Tom King sped at lightning speed, the mob howling behind him, and throwing all kinds of missiles, but intentionally allowing themselves to be outstripped in the race. : Tom King found a splendid chestnut horse tethered to the sign-post of the tavern Jack Sheppard had referred to. Breathless and flushed with ‘exertion he seized the rein. A hostler rushed out from the stable yard, shouting, “A highwayman! A highwayman !” He tried to seize the fugitive. Tom felled him by a blow of his pistol stock, and then clambered into the saddle. Away he flew, and mounting Holborn Hill, turned up Gray’s Inn Lane and made off in the direction of Islington, which was at that time a pretty village surrounded by orchards, corn gelds, and meadow lands. In less than half an hour jhe reached a lonely hovel called Black Mary’s Hole, A wretched-looking old crone hobbled out to, meet him. “Welcome, gallant captain,’ she mumbled. ‘“Come in, come in, and hide yourself and your pretty mort, you are safe here; but you look generous, and won’t fail to pay handsomely. He, he !” “ Aye, aye, mother,” returned the highwayman, impatiently, as he tossed her a heavy purse. “ But attend to the girl and bring me some brandy ; and now I must look to the horse,” He left the hovel, For an instant he stood motionless, with clenched hands and gnashing teeth. , “Tis the first time I haye embrued these hands in blood,” he muttered, hoarsely, “ but it will not be the last, for that cursed thief-taker shall not live another day! This very night I’ll seek him out and send a bullet through his black heart, and then come what will! I am tired of life; I care not what befall me !” | The highwayman threw himself dejectedly upon the sward, a prey to the ,keenest remorse and darkest despair. e oO CONMUC DNOOKS. EO