Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 392: what you’re looking at

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

830 His principal attention—indeed, his whole attention was riveted upon the object which lay at his feet. It was the body of a man. But so disfigured, so toa, and in such a deplorable con- dition, that it was only vy the looxs of the general outline that it could be presumed to be such. It wag dappled in blood, which had soaked irto the sawdust all round, and clotted together. The man lay upon his side, and exhibited not the least traces of life or motion. The rats, with + hich the vault appeared to be infested, beat a precipitate retreat as soon as our friend appeared with the light. There was ne y not one to be seen, though, doubtless, from some secure corner they were watching with their keeu, bright e, es the doings of the intruder who had dis- turbed them from their feast. Seeing this, Blueskin sheathed his sword, for he did not kuow when he entered whether he should have to fight a battle with these ferocious creatures. But for the present they had beaten a retreat. hd The little piece of wax taper which had been of such assistance to Blueskin in his explorations was now glmost burnt out, so, before he did anything else, he took a new piece from his pocket, and, lighting it, threw the other piece away. Then he stooped down, and proceeded to render the poor miserable-looking object all the assistance in his power. An expression of loathing and disgust came over his face as he did so. The horror of the spectacle before him was almost more than he could bear. The body was that of a man about fifty years of age. At least, Blweskin judged him to beso, from the fact that his hair was thin aud white, and his face, where it was not clotted with blood, being wrinkled and sallow. The clothing upon it was of an excelleut material, but not such as would be worn by the highest in the land, for, in the times of which we write, a man’s rank was tolerably well indicated by his dress. But it was torn in many places, and from all those places where rents were visible blood was slowly oozing, and soaking into the sawdust. The hands, too, were dreadfully torn—doubtless in his attempts to ward off the attacks of the rats. In fact, in some places the flesh had been stripped away, and the ghastly bones left bear. It was a horrible spectacle. ‘Ts he dead?” asked Blueskin, in a strange, hollow whisper—'‘is he dead 2?” Ife shrank for a moment from placing his hand upon the man’s heart and ascertaming, but he overcame that fecling. He felt it to be his duty to succour the unfortunate man to the best of his ability. He would expect it were he in his place, and so our friend uerved himself to his disagreeable task. If he had forsook him-—if he left him to his fate—we should have ceased to feel that respect for him which we do at present. The moment Blueskin touched the prostrate form, a faint moan came from the blood-stained lips. ‘* He lives,” said Blueskin—“ he lives !” Iuxistence certainly did secm to cling to the pained and emaciated carcass, but that might bo a different thing to living. Blueskin, however, considered it warrantied him in taking measures for his recovery to consciousness. Accordingly he took out a small bottle of rum, a1.d, with- drawing the cork, allowed a considerable quantity to flow into the man’s mouth, whom he turned over on his back in order to iacilitate its passage down his throat, The result was rather startling. The man gasped for breath, and, by the light of the taper Blueskin could see he was rapidly turning black in the He, therefore, turned him over once more. This produced a very violent fit of coughing, which Blueskin assisted by banging the unfortunate man upon his back. But the result of all this was that the man recovered. His mind wandered, for he only addressed Blueskin in an incohereut manner, and implored for mercy and help, mn a eee ee BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. while he fought numerous battles with legions of imaginary rats. ‘He will never get better here,” thonght Blueskin. “J must get him out into the corridor. The air smells better and fresher than it is here. I must do it.” The task which Blueskin thus set himself was nota very pleasant one. The appearance of the poor emaciated wretch was hors rible to a degree. Moreover, he was bleeding from many wounds. But Blueskin did not shrink much. Before lifting the body up, though, he plentifully sprinkled it with sawdust, of which there was such a pleu- tiful supply on the floor of the vault. This had the effect, not only of stanching the Llood, but also of making the man somewhat more comfortable to handle. But it added considerably to the grotesque hideousness of his appearance. Having done this much, Blueskin stuck the piece of taper on the door-post, so that it shed a light partly into the vault, and partly into the corridor beyond. Then, lifting the almost insensible form, he carried it out into the passage. 4 But it would seem as though the rats had a strong ob- jection to this proceeding on Blueskin’s part. They had submitted quietly enough to all his other movements, having a natural dread of him, but no sooner did he raise the body from the floor, than they every one seemed to be endowed with fresh courage, and they made an attack upon him. Burdened as he was, Blueskin was unable to repel the assault with anything like effect. He turned his attention to getting out of the cell as quickly as possible. But this he found to be no easy matter. From the floor, from the walls, fromthe ceiling, from every nook and corner of the place, the rats poured outin countless shoals. They sprang upon Dlueskin with surprising boldness, fastening their claws and fang-like teeth both iu his flesh and wearing apparel. He kicked with his feet, and kept them off as well as he could, but they returned undaunted to the attack. They sprang, too, upon the unconscious body which Blueskin carried, and here they had their own way, for the unfortunate mau could not defend himself in the slightest degrec, though now and then a deep and hollow groan would come from his lips. Blueskin was bewildered. No doubt the secret of the rats making the attack they did upon him was in consequence of his having put down the light, for, while he held thatin his hand, they had not offered to molest him. Now they sprang at his face and neck, and inflicted sharp wounds upon him. Ife made a sudden dash forward to leave the vault, his intention being to place #he body on the floor of the pas- sage, and then close the door of the vault quickly, so as to shut as many of the vermin as he could in it. But, unfortunately for him, while passing through the doorway, he struck against the taper, which he had stuck against the post. It fell to the ground, and in a moment all was darkness. A curse came from Blueskin’slips at this unlucky acci- dent, and a scream, which sounded like one of exultation, from the rats, who now renewed their attack with ten times more fierceness than before. But Blueskin did not lose his presence of mind. Despite the danger of his situation, he recollected what he had intended to do. Quickly, then, he placed the body npon the floor of the passage, and, though it was so dark, he caught hold of the door of the vault and swung it shut. A horrible squeaking arose, for several rats were jammed acainst the door-post. Although the wax taper had fallen to the ground, and doubtless by this time was devoured, yet Blueskin had several others in his pocket. So he produced them quickly, and soon had one Ughted. Ue drew his sword, Of course, a great many rats had made their way through the doorway with him, and, rendered desperate by the attack which had been made upon them, no longer we COmIcooOokS.G© >