Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

BLUESKIN ; $< eee “Fight for your life and liberty,” shouted Blueskin, drawing his sword. Jack immediately followed his example. Then ensued one of the most desperate combats that eould be imagined. Hemmed in as they were, flight was out of the ques- tion. By keeping close to the parapet of the bridge, however, they prevented their enemies getting behind. But the odds were three to one. Odds too great for them to have the hope of proving victors. Still they fought with the utmost desperation. To be deprived of liberty just at that moment would be destructive in the extreme. But it very soon became evident that such would be the case. Jack was suddenly disarmed and made a prisoner. Single-handed, to have attempted his rescue would have been the height of folly. But how was he to escape sharing his fate ? ia foes were pressing with redoubled vigour upon im. He resolved upon a desperate expedient. It was perilous, but then he thought his position could hardly be worse than it then was. Freeing one foot from the stirrup, he, at the same. instant, swept his sword around him with such resistless ; almost to madness, he cut 2 fury, that a cirele was left for a brief instant by it. Taking advantage of that small interval of time, he took out his other foot, and placed it on the parapet of the bridge. Then, with a violent effort, he sprang over into the river. So astounded were Wild’s men by this feat, that they stood as if turned to stone, until they heard the heavy splash below, which told them that his body had reached | the water. Jonathan was the first to recover himself, for he bad been as much taken aback as his men. *“Guard your prisoner!” he cried. “Look that he does not escape. The rest of you follow me.” As he thus spoke, and without waiting to see whether his hasty commands were attended to, he galloped to the end of the bridge. Then, dismounting, he ran round the corner to where the steps descended to the water’s edge. Two of his men held Jack firmly. The other three followed close at his heels. Down the wet, slippery steps he dashed hike a madman. It is the greatest wonder in the world that he did not miss his footing and fall headlong to the bottom. But he did not. The mist that bung upon the surfaee of the Thames baffled his vision. With straining eyes he strove to pierce it. ** Boat, your honour ?” said a sleepy voice. boat, your honour ?”’ Want a EE eee: CHAPTER CXII. EDGWORTH BESS FINDS SUCCOUR, EVEN AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR, BUT DOES NOT REACH THE TERMINATION OF [IER PERILS. SHRIEK after shriek burst from the lips of poor Edgworth Bess, as the Mohawks continued their diabolical sport. But so far from desisting 1n consequence, they persevered the more, and replied to her screams of agony by shouts of wild maniac laughter. It was in vain she tried to escape the sharp points of the swords, and when she instinctively drew back, it was only to have her progress stopped by another weapon entering her back. Yet none of these wounds were serious oues, thougao they caused her intolerable pain and fright. In vain she asked for mercy. A deaf ear was tarned to her supplications. But suddenly, when she felt that she was about to faint, there was the hurried dash of horses’ footsieps from the direction of Temple-bar. The sound reached not only the earz of the poor girl, 7 filled her with new hope, but it reached her tormentors also. They paused a moment. aS A ROMANCE. That moment was enough. Before it had expired a horseman dashed into their midst. He was fully armed. His long heavy sword was drawn, and he laid about him with terrible effect. With a cry of joy, Edgworth Bess sprang forward and grasped the horse’s bridle. Instinctively she recognised the rider as a deliverer. “Whoop! whoop! ahoy!” shouted the Mohawks. Reece with him, lads! down with him! Whoop! ahoy !” Clashing thetr swords together, they pressed forward to the attack. But the stranger, who had so opportunely made his appearance upon the scene of action, stooped down, and math au apparently slight effort, lifted Bess on to his orse. Then he whirled his ponderous weapon round his head, ae the Mohawks fell before it like grain before the sickle. His steed, too, he made to prauce and rear in such a manner, that the villains could not reach him. But well skilled iu the art of defence as he was, he knew very well he could not obtain a permanent advantage over sO many foes. Watching his opportunity, then, and goading his horse way through the throng. Right and left Lis sword flashed with inconeeivable rapidity, and every time it came down one of his opponents fell to the earth. He was clear. The Mohawks, burming with rage, commenced an | ineffectual pursuit. At a tremendous gallop, the horse, making nothing of its double burden, dashed along the Strand. In less than two minutes all sounds from the band of dissolute young men had died away. Edgeworth Bess was saved. But by whom ? She had not seen his face. She had not heard his voice. But she felt that he was a friend. And then the moment he lifted ber npon his horse, and she felt that she was comparatively safe, her spirits failed ber, and she fell into a swoon. By whom had she been saved ? Into what hands had she fallen ? Had she found a friend and a protector ? Or had she found a foe and a persecutor ? These are questions which time alone can answer, but much can be judged from a person’s appearance, and so we will take a glance at that of the girl’s saviour. There is now light enough in the sky for objects to be distinctly and clearly visible. Just at the corner of Whitehall he pulled up, and bent down to look at his inanimate burden. As he does so, the first thing that strikes the beholder is his immense proportions. His height must be close upon, if not quite, six feet. His form is well filled out. His face large, square, and massive, with angular fea- tures, large, fierce-looking eyes, and deep lines about his mouth, betokening firmness and resolution. In accordance with the almost universal fashion of the time, he wore a peruke. The plain, three-cornered hat he wore allowed a broad forehead to be visible. ace his arms, legs, and body would have befittcd ITer- cules. But yet there was nothing clumsy and ungainly about him. is proportions, although on so large a seale, were perfect. His horse was a large, powerful creature, and more to be admired for 1fs strength and endurance than its symmetry. But as for the man himsclf, there was something about the expression of his countenanee that was far from being pleasing. Any one could have told at a glance that he was fitted to take the lead in any desperate enterprise. Nor did he look like one who would permit any obstacle to stand long in the way, if it interfered at all with his designs, DOO 3} (SO) Cc 5}