Black Bess; or, the Knight of the Road — page 283: what you’re looking at

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

THE BNIGHT &s long as it reached tlic ears of the traveller an: made s ave impression upon him, that was all he required. . His command was obeyed. “ What is it—oh, what is it ?” Vhe trembling tones of the voice and the appearance ef the rider made Tom King aware that it was an aged man he had stopped. He also saw that he presented the cddest figure he had ever scen. His clothes were of the most tattered description, seeming here and there to hold together by nothiug but a thread, while the animal he bestrode was a vicious-looking mule, that seemed to be quite as odd a character as its rider. _ Ata first glance, one would have come to the ~mela- sion that this old man was miserably poor; vut a more attentive observation, such as Tom King bestowed upon him, served to show that his poverty was more assumed than real. Moreover, the highwayman’s keen eyes Ccetected that, _ upon being challenged, the old man suddenly clasped his hands over his breast, as though he had something of value secreted there. In reply to his question, Tom King said: “T want what money and valuables you moy happen to havo with you! Be quick—hand them ovei, “cr there is a police officer a little way up the road !” I'he old man laughed a shrill, imbecile laugh. “ The idea now, that anyone should think of robbing a poor wretch like myself! Why, I am not worth a groat —absolutely not worth a groat! Let me pass on in peace, young man, otherwise I will raise my veice and summon the police officer you mentioned. Ha—ha!” “ If you did,” replied Tom King, with a most menacing voice and gesture, “‘that cry would be your last! Before you had well finished uttering it the bullet in this pistol would clear a passage through your skull.” | “Nay—nay, young man!” said the traveller, with inereasing agitation and uneasiness. “‘ Never mind threats, but allow meto pass on. I am poor—oh, so very, | very poor!” | “That may be; and yet I am not going to allow you | to proceed until I have thoroughly satisfied myself that | you do not carry anything about you that I think worth 3 taking.” The oid man uttered a cry of dismay. “No—no!” he exclaimed. “You are wrong—yuite wrong !” sy would have pushed on, but Tom prevezted im “‘ Hark ye!” he said, ‘Iam not inclined to stand any bother! Either you must give me what you have, or else I must search you; and, for your information, let me tell you that I never search a living person—I shoot them first, and then examine their pockets afterwards.” This threat greatly terrified the old man, who pressed | his hands more tightly than ever upon his breast. _ YT have nothing,” he repeated—“ absolutely nothing !”’ | =“ Then what is that you hold so tightly ?” Hold so tightly ?” “ Yes—I spoke plainly enough, did I not F” “ Well, then—a—it—it—is nothing !” “ False !” said Tom—“ false!” | ° He had been watching the old man elosely, snd now } availed himself of an opportunity to seize him by the breast of his apparel, for at the moment wen he teplied _ the old man had removed his hands A lond yell was the result of this action. Then a frantic dut vain struggle. - Tom King felt something hard, and the next moment beheld in his hands a large leather bag so full of money that scarcely room was left to tie up the mouth. * What do you call this?” said Tom King, as he flung | the heavy bag in the air and dexterously caught it as it descended. ‘‘ How could you sit there and proclaim such _ @ monstrous falsehood ? | But the old miser, for such indeed ne was, suffered too much agony of spirit to be able to pay any attention to what the highwayman said. | “My gold!” he said—‘*my gold! Give me back my | precious treasure! It has cost me years and years to ' amass it, and many a sleepless night to guard it. Oh, if _ 1 bad only taken the landlord's advice and stopped at his } ian all night, this would not have happened! Oh. my gold _=my gold! What now will become of me *” an ” = ar ae » ; RA - > ae has a OF THE ROAD. lGoa 1 The apparently old man—for he was not old in reality, j wut merely aged with penury and anxiety of mind— ‘zirly wept over his loss like a little child. But the spectacle of so much avarice raised no feelings of compunction in Tom's breast. He believad that he was pany doing the poor wretch a service by despoiling im ‘‘ Kide on!” he said, “or if you linger I may be tempted to make a further search about your pereecn, and then I doubt net I shall discover some other hoard. Feel thank- ful that I have let you off so easily, for youravarice and lying deceit disgust me !” Mournfully and sadly the old miser set his mule in, motion. Tom King gazed after him with mingled feelings, but ere he had gone many yards a fresh thought entered Tom’s mind, and acting impulsively upon it, he said : “Stop—stop, my friend! I want to speak to you! I have something of importance to say—something that will very likely turn out to your advantage.” Hearing these words, the old man, after a little hesita- tion, pulled up. “Tf you like to render me a little service,” cried Tom King, a wicked smile playing round his lips the while, which the old man, owirg to the darkness, could not see —‘if you are willing to do what I require, I will, by way of recompense, give you back the bag of gold I have just taken from you.” ** What—what is that you say ?” “You are incredulous; but, believe me, I am quite in earnest.” “What is it, then, you want me to do ?—some fearful crime, perhaps? What is it that I can do to be worth so great a sum ?” “J place a different value upon money to what you do. But, in a word, are you willing to undertake this ser- vier: © “WFnat is it ?” “ Listen, and I will tell you.” The miser leaned forward cagerly. ‘A Jittle further on along the road you will come to an old stone bridge that crosses the river Brent.” ‘ Yes—yes, I know it well.” “ Attend, then. ths parapet there . fetch it, and bring it to me.” “ And is this all ?” asked the miser, in tones of wouder, % Would yeu pay so much for this slight service ?” “T have said 50.” Under one of the loose stones upon letter. I want you to go there, “ Then—then “Then what ?” “There must be some specia] and hidden danger con- nected with it?” Tom nodded. “There most certainly is,” he replied. “ But let me know its nature.” “T am quite willing. You must know, then, that I have g 20d reason to believe that the bridge is well watched by police officers, who are on the look-out to capture me. I Yhe letter contains the descrip&ion of the place where a csgarade of mine has hidden a vast treasure.” ‘ -Yreasure, say you?” for the cld man’s faculties be- earme, if possible, doubly sharpened by the pronunciation of this word. “Yes, treasure! You understand, my comrade buried it, then wrote down a description of the place, and left it beneath the stone.” “Then why not fetch it ?” “ Because if I venture to go near, the officers will seize me, while of you they will have no suspicion whatever. You can take up the letter, bring it back to me, and when you dol pronzise faithfuily to return you your bag of old.” ; The old miser’s eyes sparkled brightly. “Jt is a bargein,” he cried—“ it is a bargaia !” “ ( wer glad tu hear it,” said Tom. “Set forward now, gt once.” + And where shall I find you ?” 4] will sit down here upon this old milestone, and wast patiently for your return.” ‘‘Good—good! Do not stir.” “J will not, depend upon it. Be quick!’ | ‘] will; and if you do not stir I shat! pe sure te be | able to find you.” . COMIC DOOX<S.COn