Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 46: what you’re looking at

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44 c an ineffectual effort to collect his thoughts. “‘ I must get out of this place, and then, perhaps, I shall be able to think.” the vault to the iron door. When he saw it closed his heart sank suddenly like a to his hand. To spring up the stairs, ture iuto the nave of the church, was but ths moment. Then he stopped to think. After a while he spoke. “ Jonathan must have left me there,” he said. ‘* He recovered and found I had disobeyed him. That was his idea of punishing me. Bab! I am not such a fool as te be frightened by dead bodies, though when I saw that coffin move off the shelf aud beard Wild yell out I was seared a bit, I’ll allow.” He walked slowly up and down the aisle of the church. As he was shoeless, having, as the reader will :eimember, divested himself of that part of his clothing in order to approach Jonathan uuheard, he ghded up and down with the silence of a ghost. ‘‘T can’t make it out,’ he said. “It puzzles me en- tirely ; and yet I should uncommonly hke to know what he wanted there, and I will, too, ll warrant. Who knows it may be something that will place Wild as much in my poweras I am in his. That would be glorious. To think of being able to say, ‘ Be civil, Johnny, or I'll have you hanged at Tyburn next sessions. He! he! Fancy saying that. Oh! it would be prime! I should be able to pay off a little then of what 1 owe him. He! he!” Quilt was so delighted with this prospect that he for a little while forgot everything that had just taken place, and where he was as well, but he was suddenly recalled to himself by a return of the pain in his side. At every breath he drew he felt as though some one stabbed him in the vitals. He groaued, and was obliged to seat himself upon a bench that was close at hand. The paroxysm was doubtless produced by the laughter he had indulged in, for now he was quiet, and only par- tially inflated his lungs, the pain was mucb easier. “ Wow came 1 bythis hurt?” he said. “TI felt nothing of it when I went into the vault. It must be there then | that I received it. But how?” He leaned his chin upon his hands, and strove to think. “Could J have done it in my fall? that could be. there. All is plain now: it must have been him that mauled me in this fashion. and through the narrow aper- work of a No, I don’t think his? Isuppose so. If he has, it is a mercy my ribs are not broken, and J don’t know now but what they are.” To the best of his belief, however, after making as good an examination as he could, the bones were whole. “ T must get out of this, and at once, too. Jam a fool for having stayed here so long. J de sot want to have to answer for what Jonathan has done *own in the vault. But for his treatment of me he shall v<ufer. I swear it— | ] swear it!” Wild had raised up another enemy. | ‘J will bide my time, though,” he :. ad, gloomily, “JT will bide my time. Vengeance will .o pat last, and | it will be none the worse tor keeping. early, dearly | shall you rue this. Oh! curses! curses!” | Quilt had forgotten himself in his excitement, bul the | pain in his side soon brought him to himself. | Slowly he dragged himself out of the door of the church. He stopped upon the steps to put on his boots. | Al around hin was very still. The wind and the rain | had gone.and now it was a calm, fine night. | Not the faintest breeze seemed to shake the leaves ou ihe yew-trees 1. the churchyard. ! It was fortunate for Quilt that no one was abroad, that | io curious eye saw him leave the sacred building, or he would have found himself in a ticklish situation. Down the gravel walk—his feet seeming in the stillness : | NR a es 2 Se a ey a@e.. RA = BLUESKIN : “1 must get out of this frightful place,” he said, after | Having come to this conclusion, he made his way across | A ROMANCE. to make a tremendous noise—he went, and out at the | little-swingjag gate into the lane. ‘‘ The horses were in the paddock,” he said, “ but of course Jonathan has taken them with him. Curse him. 3 Y expect I should find it no easy matter to mount. J] must even go as I am.” It seemed a long walk from Tottenham, but much to lump of ice in his breast ; but, to his joy, he found it open | his relief Le found the pain constantly and steadily abating. It was nearly ten o’clock when he reached London. He did not repair straight to Newgate-street, but visited a friend of his who had a pubhe-bouse on Clerkenwell- creer. Here he remained during the whole of the day, uncer- tain how to proceed; but towards might, finding himself | almost well, he directed himself to Jonathan’s house, and was admitted. The first intelligence he received was that Wild had been inquiring after him. But other and more important matters must now have our immediate attention. CHAPTER XXX. JACK SHEPPARD IS INTRODUCED TO WILD’S WAREHOUSE IN THE HORSEFERRY, WESTMINSTER. In a former chapter we have already at some length de. scribed the manner 1n which Jonathan Wild carried on his business transactions in Newgate-street. We have seen how Pinching Tom brought him the neck- lace which he had stolen from Lady Ingestrie. ° But although small articles were sometimes in this way brought to Jonathan direct, yet 1t was not the usual course,, nor was it that pursued with plunder of a more bulky description. The great thief-taker was by far too politic to keep in his house anything that could compromise him in any way should the authorities take it mtotheir heads to search his domicile. In consequence 1t became a necessity to have another | establishment, where the goods could be safely warehoused. Acquainted with every part of London as Jonathan was, he soon found a place suitable for his purpose. This was a sohtary public-house in the Horseferry, Westminster ; then a desolate and fearful place. One of his men, who was known by the name of John Oaky, and who was entirely in his power, Jonathan in- stalled in this house ostensibly as its Jandlord. To a casual visitor, and sometimes such did drop in, the house presented inall respects a very ordinary appearance. There was nothing whatever to engender suspicion. It was then towards this place that Blueskin directed Stop. Jonathan recovered first—saw me | his cart. By the time they arrived at the “ Ship and Rainbow”’ —for such was the sign of the public-house—it was ‘The skin is unbroken,” he continued. “ What was it? | broad daylight, and people were beginning to move Has he kicked me, I wonder, with those heavy boots of | abroad. Upon hearing the grating of the wheels, John Oaky, the landlord, ran to the door, and, as soon as he saw Blueskin, he precipitately retreated into his house. At the side of the building was an opening leading into the yard at the back of the public-house, and down this { Blueskin turned. Oaky was standing there waiting to receive them. ** All right ?”’ he said, interrogatively. ““ Yes,” replied Blueskin, as he scrambled out of the cart. ‘* Where’s the ostler ?” “ Jack will be here in a minute.” ‘““T am going to stay for an hour or two, so let the horse have a good feed the while.” “Very good. Are you hurt, captain ?”’ ‘** Just a little, but it is nothing to speak of.”’ * And who is this youngster’ inquired the landlord, pointing to Jack, who had also descended from the cart. ‘* A fresh hand.” “Oh! indeed.” “You would know his name, John, if you heard it.’ ‘Very likely.” ‘© And be very much surprised, for his father was an old particular of-yours.”’ “ Who is he, then P”’ ‘“‘ His name,” said Blake, “is Jack Sheppard!” “ Sheppard ? ” * Vas, ] oe ee eeeerereme “Weer eee Onl SE COMmiIcoooe (C <SrnGo >