Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 196: what you’re looking at

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

ST. AAP a TT sh A i re AF ONA ct aceeents San airmaa” — ANS ST = r 6 Nptei 2B am = GimenibrO0- 5, a ee Ths With great spced and energy the two men set about the task assigned to them, and although their knives were sharp, the wood was so hard that it was a long while before they accomplished it. At length, however, it was finished. Raising the shutter a little way, they next proceeded to attack the window itself. —_ This, as it was of the old-fashioned latticed description, did not prove an obstacle worthy of the name. The lead round the panes yielded easily. ; So noiseless were they in all these operations, that not the least alarm was raised. Tn less than two minutes all three stood inside the shop. It was not until this moment that they remembered they were unprovided with one of the most necessary things of all. And that was a light. How they had omitted this in their calculations, they could uot tell. “This is a nice state of things,” said Flood. ‘ What are we to do, Jack ?” We must have a light,’’ said Blewitt. That is very true, but I have not got one. neither of you ?”’ “Only some matches.” ‘Stop. Then I think we shall do.” €¢ How P 2? “Tight one of them. I know the old crib well, as you may imagine, and I shall find the place where the candles are kept withont much trouble, and we must do the best we can with one of them.” “Good,” said Blewitt, and as he spoke he produced from his pocket a bottle of phosphorous and a few “ thieves’ matches,” as they were called, from the fact of their being ignited without noise. The flame was a tiny one, but yet the light it gave was sufficient to enable Jack to find his way across the shop without coming into contact with any of the various objects which it contained. Pushing open a half-glass door, he entered the little room behind the shop. In one corner of this apartment was another door, which Jack opened, but the moment he did so, the half-burned match he carried was extinguished by a sudden and violent current of cold air. This door, in fact, was the one leading to the cellars. Jack did not need the hght now, he just passed his hand behind the door, and produced a candle. Another match was struck by Blewitt, and it was lighted. This difficulty, then, was over, though, had not Jack been as intimately acquainted with the premises as he was, 1t would have proved a very serious one indecd. ‘This way,’ said Jack, “and be silent. Here aro the stairs.” Again recommending his two followers to silence, Jack Jed the way up the stairease, towards the sleeping anart- meuts in John Roots’ house. All within the dwelling was as still as death, and the three burglars stole up the siairs hke three grim spectres. Now and then, however, despite their utmost care, the timeworn wood would creak beneath their tread, but the stridulous sound would, if heard by anyone, be thought nothing of in the night. At length the landing on the first floor was reached. Jack did not speak, but by a motion indicated which was the door opening into the carpenter’s bedroom. ‘oo well did the apprentice know that his mastcr made it an invariable practice te lock the door, and place thie key beneath lis pillow. We pointed to the keyhole. Blewitt understood him. Cautiously advancing, he took from his poeket his hunch of skeleton ireys, and having selected one which he thought most likely to answer his purpose, he gently inserted it t in tus Icck. Have CHAPTER CXXXKIV. EXPLAINS ACW IT WAS THAT BLUESKIN ESCAPED FROM Wil,D UPON THE THAMES, AND RELATES HOW HE FRok REFUGE IN A LODGING-HOUSE IN SOUTHWARK. Fo long a time has elapsed since we took any cognizance of the proceedings of Blueskin, that we feel we cannot } BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. any longer suffer our attention to be diverted from him. The whole of the remarkable incidents which took place upon the occasica of Jonathan Wild chasing him down the Thames wi,/ doubticss be fresh in the recollection of the reader, so it will be unnecessary for us to recapitziate em. The first shot which Wild fired at him while standing on the steps was an effective one. He had just risen to tho surface after his tremendous dive, and was dizzy and breathless. He saw nothing, for the water blinded him. Ere, however, he could clear the hair from before his eyes, and recover himself, he heard a sudden shout, a loud report, and then felt a stinging sensation along his neck, Ndr told him 1n a moment that he had been struck by a ullet. The impulse to cry out in the mamner he did was one that could not be eontrolled. He sank. Down—down—seemingly for miles down beneath the surface of the muddy river he seemed to go, until he lost all consciousness of the distance. Then he rose again, and, by the preservation, struck out his arms. Blueskin was an excellent swimmer. The tide carried him down the river, and what with that and his own exertions, he weut at a very rapid rate indeed. He was not allowed time enough to make more than a dozen strokes before he heard the report of another pistol. He ducked his head instantly. This time, however, he was not hit. As long as he could he swam with his head under water, but his breath soon compelled him to draw in more air. The first sounds he heard were the shouts of Wild’s men in the boat. Ho was seen. He was pursued. His heart sank within him, and he gave himself un for ost. How was he, wounded and weak from loss of blood as he was, to hope to escape from his enemies when they chased him in a boat. “or a little while his speed might perhaps be greater than theirs, but he would be the first to grow exhausted. Then he would fall into their hands an easy prey. Iiis wound, however, he quickly found not to be a serious one, and then the cold water, besides having the effect of materially stanching the blood, mitigated the pain which 1¢ would otherwise have caused. Kor this nruch, then, he had to be thankful. From his old friend aud acquaintance, but now bitter foe, Jonathan Wild, he felt he had everything to dread. Ifaving learned that he had escaped the death to which he fancied he had doomed him, he would now spare no effort to capture and slay him. Love of life is one of the strongest impulses implanted in the breasts of human beings, and in obedience to the dictates of this feeling, he summoned up all the strength he possessed to do battle with the waves, for he felt he had yet much to live for. Already have we seen how he managed to keep ahead of Wild’s boat, and how, in spite of their utmost exertions to prevent it, he had gained the shadow of the boats that lay moored on the Surrey side of London-bridge. But then a most mysterious and inexplicable circum- stance occurred. From those very boats had come a swimmer, who, naturally enough, Wild and his men took to be the person of whom they were in chase. Under this impression, one of them had taken as care. ful and as steady an aim as he could, and fired. The swimmer was hit, as was abundantly manifested by the quantity of blood which gushed from his head and face, and dyed the water around him. He turned with great rapidity over and over, as though in the agonies of death. Then, by means of a couple of boat-Looks, the body was drawn through the water and over the gunwale into the boat. To the horror and astonishment of Wild, it was not Blueskin ! One glance at the bruised and bieeding form waa ere instinct of self- _—_ fd - ~~ (SO) > NOOlKKS CO