Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

am not, thank heaven! the bearer of ill tidings. I A Sr tr nf PS BLUESKIN; 76 A ROMANCE. of intelligence of the safety of Sir Marmaduke to Lady Osborn. Then they were flung open in all haste. * He is alive! ny poor master ?”’ said the lodge-keeper, ina voice of emotion. ‘“ God bless him! there has been a sad house ever sinoe he disappeared more than a month ago. We all feared he was dead.” With snch like expressions he accompanied Jack to the Priory, which had a dismal look. The shutters of the windows on the ground floor were closed, and the blinds of the upper ones drawn down. It was into a plainly-furnished room that Jack was ushered, and there he awaited the arrival of the Lady Osborn. The intelliger72 that some oue wished to see her who brought news of Ler husband filled her with agitation. There was a flush of colour in her habitually pale face, and a sparkle in her eyes when she entered. She paused, aud strove to speak, but her voice faled her, and she was fain to clutch a chair for support. Calm yourself, madam,” said Jack, respectfully. ‘I He still lives, and is waiting to see you.” Lady Osborn, at this confirmation of the good news she had heard, conld not restrain her tears, and she sank down upon the chair, the back of which she had grasped. “Oh! why—why did he not come to meat once? Oh! this is cruel in the extreme.” “Not so, madam ; he feared the effect lis sudden and unexpected appearance might have npon you. When you are composed and ready, I will take you to him.” “Oh! 1 am quite ready—and—and quite composed. Take me, oh! take me, without delay.” ** You are, by his instructions, to take the earriage.” “The carriage! Where is it, then?” ‘Close at hand, madam.” “Why, then Oh! he is hurt?” she said, a wild fecling of alarm thronging to her heart. “ You did not tell me that. Where has he been to? Oh! | have so much to ask that I forget!” ‘Yon must subdue your emotions, lady.” * T will try,” she said. As she spoke she rang the bell. “Tell Price to put the horses in the carriage at once; I am waiting to go out.” “Yes, my lady.” And now, sir,’ she continued, fixing her eyes in- ploringly upon Jack’s face. “ Tell me—oh! tell me more!”’ “You must prepare yourself for evil tidings,’”’ said Jack. ‘‘He has suffered mnch since you saw him last. {le was kidnapped by a villain, and kept in a dungeon, deprived of light and sustenance. But he has escaped, after many difficulties and much fatigue. From his own lips must you learn the story of his sufferings. He can relate them much better than I can. You must not ex- pect to see him looking as he did when you saw him last. His sufferings have left their impress on Inm. Still he is atte, and, with the exception of being utterly exhausted, well!” “Thank heaven! then,” said Lady Osborn, “ for I had lost all hope. Oh! sir, if, as I suspect, it is to you I owe the restoration of my husband, accept my warmest, my most heartfelt thanks! Mav God reward you, for I can- not §” Strange to sav, these words were distasteful to Jack. The reason was beeause his own heart told him how un- — worthy he was of such encomiums. os a OO il “eRwedaioe 2 S . * ema =, But he was relieved from his embarrassment by hearing the carriage draw up before the door. Lady Osborn sprang excitedly to her feet. ‘*Come, come!” she said, “ the carriage is at the door. Oh! have pity on me, and take me to him at once.” She took Jack by the hand, and led him across the room. * Let me beg of you,” he said, “to control yourself. I ask it no less for your own sake than that of your hus- “T shall be calm if you will take me to him, indeed I shall.” There was a very grave doubt as to whether this would be the case ; but Jack, fearing to increase her excitement, thought the best thing he could do was to comply. NT EC PES a ange Gon ones" -UENNGDONT He therefore handed her into the carriage, and gave th coachman instructions where to drive. She would insist upon his entering the carriage with er. Jack felt awkward and uncomfortable. ‘ It was the first time he had ever been in a carriage. However, the demeanour of the baronet’s wife soon put him at his ease. The distance between the Priory and the boatman’s cottage was soon accomplished. On the way Jack did his utmost to soothe the mind ot the unfortunate lady, as well as to prepare ber for the sad spectacle her husband presented. They drew up about a hundred yards from the cottage, and then both alighted. Lady Osborn took Jack’s arm. and they together walked towards the hut. It was a strange position for Jack. He could see the lady’s agitation was extreme. She drew her breath painfully, and her face became alternately white aud scarlet. They reached the door. Whispering a last 1njunction to her to be firm, he lifted the latch. With a cry of joy she sprang into the cottage. Sir Marmaduke had been accommodated with a patri- archal arm-chair by the fireside. Despite his weakness he rose from lis chair, and staggering forward, was caught in the arms of his wife. ** At last,” she said. ‘“‘ At last. How you must have suffered. My poor—poor husband. Look up! look up! Smile upon meas you always did. Wusband! husband! Speak—look—or I shall go mad. Oh! heis dying!” she shrieked. “‘Heisdying! Help! help! Heis dying!” Jack rushed forward. But one glance at the pale features was sufficient. Sir Marmaduke Osborn was dead! CHAPTER LII. THE CUP OF BLISS IS DASHED FROM JACK’S LIPS BY WILD’S MYRMIDONS. KEEPING close in the shadow of the houses—shrinking as much as possible from observation—glancing around uneasily—a dark form at dusk, that evening, glided along Drnry-lane. Near the low, old-fashioned doorway of the “ Black Lion” Inn it paused, and assured, apparently, that it was unwatched, disappeared into the interior. That form was Jack Sheppard. Atter the suddeu death of Sir Marmaduke Osborn. feeling that his presence was no longer required—that it could neither be of service to himself nor to the baronet— he spoke a few words of consolation, regret, and explana- tion to the bereaved lady, and then departed. He was full of anxiety to know whether Edgworth Bess was in safety. From experience, he knew how much to be dreaded was Jonathan Wild, and he trembled at the thought, that then, at that very moment, she might be in his clutches, or, at least, in such a position as to need the assistance of a manly arm. Such a feeling as this, as the reader may suppose, was just the one to make Jack hasten back to London ; but, although it was not much past noon when he began his backward journey, yet, as we have seen, it was dark before he reached his destination. Travelling in those days was a far different thing to what it is now, but it was all the better for Jack that night had eome when he entered the city. The whole of the way he proceeded with the utmost caution. He knew, in all probability, that Jonathan had spies posted in different places to watch for him, and he was extremely anxious that none of them should track him to the place where the young girl had found a refuge. And so, like some malefactor just escaped from the precincts of a prison, he crept along Drury-lane, and then, watching his opportunity, disappeared through the door- way of the old inn. wa His heart beat strangely, and his limbs trembled, as he | walked along the dark, narrow passage towards the kitchen. He entered hastily, and glanced about him. Tt was vacant. oo ee MICOOOKS.CO 5} _ CO