Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

a «4 at *¢ ie = “ Yes.” ‘Jack Sheppard! Trepeat the name, my young fris , in order to imprint it the more deeply on my memcry. Believe me, I sha!l never forget it, nor cease to feel grate- ful for ”’— sd “There, no more of that,” said Jack, rather brvsyuely. ‘It’s really disagreeable to do anyone a good turn.” “My young friend,’ said Sir Marmaduke, who got stronger every moment, “‘my young friend, I like you none the worse for deprecating my gratitude. It 1s the sign of a good nature. But since the verbal expression of gratitude is so distasteful to you, permit me to make you a suggestion.” ‘J cannot refuse,’ said Jack, who could not help feeling some amount of awe at the dignity with which the worthy baronet spoke. “7 know nothing of your position or occnpation in life, Jack Sheppard, but trom your raiment I judge that it is ue better nor so good as it might be. Now, when I am once free from this hateful place, I shall then be iu a situa- tion to make you some more tangible expression of grati- tude than I could by mere lip service.” “Then let the offer stay till then,’ said Jack, as he sprung up inte tle passage, and held out his arms to assist Sir Marmaduke, whe gladly accepted the proffered aid. He stood for a moment to regain his breath, and then he placed his hand detainingly upon Jack’s arin. * You rise still higher in my estimation. Suffer me to speak. If you will permit me, [ will see that your future lot in life is nearer what you wish than I am sure it 1s at present.” “Sir!” said Jack overcome by the generosity of the man he saved, and the reflections to which his words had given aati ‘Sir, I thank yeu from the bettem of my heart, and ’— “Jt is now my turn te interrupt,” said the baronet, with a wan smile. ‘‘ [ can assure you any thanks from you weuld come with a bad grace, for you have nothing te be grate- ful for.” ‘“ Nothing!” repeated Jack. that [ had seen you earlier.” a 4 | nena “Tf you but kuew all, or ‘“ Remorse tinctures your voice,” said Sir Marmaduke. | Surely, one so young and full ot generous nnpulses as you are, can have done nothing serious of which you should repent,” “There you mistake,’ said Jack, whose thoughts re- verted to the young girl who had so unequivocally dis- played the affection she felt for him, and how deeply he was already stained with crime. “ There you mistake. I am already criminal.” “Criminal!” said Sir Marmaduke, in accents of the most intense surprise. ‘Criminal? Impossible.” ‘And yet true,” said Jack, mournfully. His better angel was just then in the ascendancy. “But how amu [| te reconeile such a statement with your behaviour to me?” asked Sir Marmaduke, with an incredulous air. ‘‘ There appeared nothing of the criminal in that.” | “Qh! believe me, sir,” said Jack, “1 have been forced by fate to be what I am. Not upon my head rests the responsibilities of my actions, but upen ethers who made me what [ ain.” Your history must have been a strange one, and”’ “ But this is no time to tell it,” said Jack, suddenly recollecting lus peiilons position, of which, during the briet but interesting culloguy, be had been equally as oblivious as his companion. ‘ We must turn one thoughts to the mode iu which we are to leave Wild’s house. We are, properly speakimy, scarcely any freer than we were in the dungeon.” “Oh! yes—cvh! yes,” said Sir Marmaduke. ** Mv mind is restored to me; my chains undone.” *T prant that, but Jonathan’s house is not one which you can walk out of unquestioned; if we are to be free we must fight our way over many an obstacle before we can be so.” “Tam reauy, my young friend, to place myself entirely et your guidance, and act as you mav think proper to ect. ae” ~ a BLUESKIN : ST ET A ar a — = A ROMANCE, SOT SNE te } CHAPTER XLI. JONATHAN WILD RECOVERS FROM HIS SWOON, AND TAKES SOME RATHER ENERGETIC PROCEEDINGS. “THEN,” said Jack Sheppard, “ tle best thing we can do is to make sure of one thing.” *¢ And what is that ?”’ “Why, if Jonathan Wild should wake up rather sooner pace expect, he will find i+: impossible ta follow us very quickly. “No, no; stay.” ** For what ?”’ *“ Surely you cannot contetnplate sash ea deed. Leave him to the punishment of his own guilty thoughts.” “Eh P” said Jack, who was quite ina fog. *€ Spare his life. Surely you cannot murder him ?” ** Murder him,” said Jack; ‘* bless you, I would not on any account cheat the hangman of his due.” ‘““ Forgive me,’ said Sir Marmaduke, “‘ for doing you so much injustice as to think yeu capable of such a deed ; and yet I] thought your words implied as inuch.”’ ‘*J meant no more than [ said,” replied Jack, “and this is it.” As he speke, he shut the door of the cell in which Wild lay so motionlessly. The key was in the lock. To turn this was the work of a moment. Then he shot the two bolts into their sockets. Jonathan Wild was a prisoner in one of his own dun- cons. ee There!” said Sheppard, with an air of the greatest satisfaction, ‘‘ he’ll have some little trouble in g@tting out of that, I rather think, or giving the alarm to any of his men.” “So I think; but now, my young friend, having dis- posed of him, what do you mtend to do next ?” “That, sir, is more than I can tell you, beyond making the attempt to leave his house with all speed possible.” Yes, yes; which is the way?” **T am again at a loss,’ said Jack, as he held the lantern above him so as to diffuse its rays as much as possible, ‘‘ I know no more of this place than I was likely to gather from being dragged into it a prisoner.” ‘Tt cannet much matter, said Sir Marmaduke, ‘‘ which way weturn. I think it almost certain the passage can- not be of any extraordinary length.” ‘*ivo, certainly not, so we should soon come to the end ef it. Come, let us take the turnivg to the right.” As it so happened, this was turning away from the secret door that led to Wild’s other cells, and as we stated upon a former occasion, Sir Marmaduke’s cell was the last but one in the row, they were not long coming to its ter- mination. In fact, they saw the wall of which the end was com- posed without knowing what it was. Being of one uniform black tint, they took it to be merely darkness. When they found, however, it was a complete and solid obstacle to their further progress, Jack said— ‘Well, this has net been much trouble, has it ?”’ “Can you sce no outlet?” asked Sir Marmaduke, anxiously. ‘* None.” No door ?”’ “No. This, I take 1, 1s the wrong end of the passage altogether.” “ But what is that to your left hand?” , “ Only one of the cell doors, I think. You will perceive it differs in no respect from the rest.” “Tsee now. Then you think at the other end we shal) find an egress ? ”’ “Yes, yes. Make haste. much time.” Both now hurried along the passage with as much speed as they could, and in a few seconds they reached the secret doer. But it was a secret door on the other side onty. The spring by which it was secured was plainly visible. Jack was just on the point of pressing on the spring We have already wasted tes } when Sir Marmaduke stayed him. ‘What is it?’ asked Jack, with some impatience. ‘“‘ My young friend, I have a proposition to make to you. If you decline it, well and good; if you accept it, as I think you will, it wil! be the means of raising you to a still greater height in my estimation,” - ere “CEE bed COMmiIcooo (C SH o(GO) mn