Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

3S RO eS pe Ca Oe Se iL eee Ee ee ; | ‘9 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. COPA pt on — i — a BO ee Warren eae pi deeply immersed in his reflectians. Presently his cogitations teck consistency and forin. Hoe uttered three words. ““Two thousand pounds !”’ Those were the words. It was then pretty evident about what Jonathan was considering. He had more than half made up his mind to go to Tottenhan. The reader can guess lis object. It was to rob the dead ! The diamond tiara Jonathan considered it would be a world of pities to allow to remain upon the brow of a dead person, to whom it could not by any possibilty be ot ser- vice. He calculated the ditheulties there might be to overcome. But, as none of them appeared to be insurmountable, he determined to make the attempt. To despoil the dead! It was what nine hundred and ninety-uiue people out of 2 thousand would havo shrunk from dome. He smoked on abstractedly for a few moments, being They would have been overcoine by the horror of the | idea. But Jonathan was unquestionably one in a thousand. Upon his imbrutalized pereeptions the eorpse of a human being made no more impression than would any other mass of inert matter. lake Lady Macbeth, he would have said— The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures, He rose to his feet, and put on bis hat and wig. “Yes,” he muttered, buekling on his hanger, ‘TI will doit. The diamond tiara shall be mine. What will there be to fear? Nothing, absolutely nothing. While alive, what ehance could a delicate girl have with me? None. Then how much less when dead!) That's the way to look atit. Pll have one more nip of brandy, and then start.” It was in this way Jonathan endeavoured to buoy up his heart; but, in spite of his plnlosophy, his hand trembled fearfully as he poured the spirituous liquor trom the bottle into the glass. “It won't do for me to start while T am nervous lke this. I shall sit down again, and drink a little more. J can see | have not had enough.” And yet he had drank enough toe reduce any ordinary man toa state of utter helplessness. “Let me see,’ he said. “ There is Word Ingestrie’s reward for the necklace; 1 must manure somehow to make that up to four thousand ponnds. ‘Then this tiara added to it will make six thousand pounds! A glorious sum, and worth something to obtain. No matter how disagreeable, I will have it!” Avarice was the mainspring of Jonathan’s existenee. As he contemplated the amount of his prospective gains his nervousness disappeared. But it required some little resolution to screw up his courage to undertake the job. Again be rose. This time he walked straight to the door of lis apart- ment, and, passing through it, descended the stairs, and reached the hall. A. famt groan came to his ears. It was poor Tonks uttered it. He was still ‘on the lock,” as they called it. Jonathan strode forward. “Now then!” he said, “what the deuce are you groaning in that way for? Tfold your row, will you ?” Tonks, at the sound of the thief-taker’s voice, stifled the groan that was upon his lips, and made a hideous face instead, for he saw that Jonathan bad the eudgel in his grasp. “Tsay hold your row!” eried Wild. reply P”’ “Yes, Mr. Wild? “Where’s Quilt Arnold ?”? “In the garrison, Mr. Wild.” ‘The garrison”? was that portion of Jonathan’s house which wus specially reserved for the aceommedation of his band. “Go to him, then, and tell hina to Lring my horse round to the front door; Tam going out.” : “YT will, By. Wild,’ said Tonks, petting up with a paint] effort Hipon his legs, and hobbhog down the hall “Why don’t you @ cos 2 ENA AAI OE HS NM Me emt gig ae ot etl «een ae p= at the same time; I shall want him to go with me.” ‘*€ Very good, sir.” Tonks disappeared. Glad was he to do so with a whole skin. Jonathin Wild stuek one end of his bludgeon into his pocket, and pnt his hands in also. With his lead heat a little forward he watked slowly up and down the hall. Ile was arranging the order of his proceedings. In an ineredibly short time, considering what had to be done, Quilt Arnold—who, like Blueskin, being high in Jonathan’s confidence, was provided with a key, which enabled him tc open the front door at pleasure—Quilt Arnold, we say, in a very few minutes after ihe reception of the order entered, and told the great thicf-taker*that the horses were waiting at the door. Quilt Arnold, who, us is welt known, was one of the most daring members of Jonathan Wild’s gang, was of mediuni height, and very strongly built. In his counte- nanee there was nothing prepossessirg, unless, perhaps, his eyes, which were jet black, small, and piercing. In- deed, 1t was few who conld keep their eountenances un- moved when Quilt fixed lis keen glance upon them. J'o those who were immediately under him he was over- bearing and tyrannical to a degrec. To Jonathan most morigerons. But this is hy no means a rarity. Ife spoke in a cringing tone of voice. ‘The horses are alf ready, if you please, Mr. Wild,” he said, ‘and waiting at the door.” “Very well, Quilt,” growled Jonathan, throwing off lis abstraetion and advancing to the door. ‘* Follow me. Keep a few yards in the rear, and take notice if you hear any one on the road besides ourselves. J am going out of town a little way.” Yes, Mr. Wild, J am quite ready, sir, if you please.” As he spoke, he shut the door atter him, and hurried dewn the steps into the street. CHAPTER XIX. WILD BAS A HORRIBLE ADVENTURE IN THE VAULTS OF TOTTENHAM CYIURCU. Ture night was cold and dark. Dense, sad coloured clouds obseured the sky. The wink came in short and fittul gusts, and wlistled dismally as it swept round the narrow eorners. wee nulls, too, a heavy send of rain would reach the earth. Newgate-street was deserted. At that Gime few people ventured forth after dark, in consequence of the msk they ran of being set upon by thieves. : ut on this mglit certainly no one would leave the shelter of a roof, unless compelled hy some pressing ne- cessity to do so. Quilt Arnold felt anything but pleased at the prospect of a long ride into the open country. GBnt it was more than his head was worth to demur, so he wisely held his peace. Jonathan Wild mounted his steed. Tt was a tall, snewy creature, not by an means handsome, but of that kind usually chosen for cavalry service—flect, powerfhl, and enduring. Quit Arnold monnted also. With great preeision, then, Jonathan shaped his course for his destination. No one was much better acquainted with the topography of London and its environs than he was. As they approached the open country the cold rapidly unereneee' and the wind was enough to cut one to the one, still Jonathan, unbeeding, pushed on, while Quilt, shivering in every lim’, kept, as be had been bid, a few paces belind him. At length, to the inexpressitle joy ot the latter, the village of Tottenham was reached. It was by no means late, at least hetween ten and eleven o’clock, and yet every one in the village apnevred +o have retired for the night. With the exception ef ove pace. That was the village ino, From the windows of this streamed a bright light, ; COMmiIcoooe (C <SnGo