Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

4 - Mw ad J ‘ee a & a! ~ ‘ ‘ ' ‘ : oe ‘ ~ * . ee é » ; thank - + i too, his heart thump against his side, as though A it would force itself from its prison-house. cold sweat broke out from every pore of his . skin, and he swayed like a drunkey man in his saddle. “Murderer!” again came to his ears, in an unearthly tone. _ “My God! what voice is that?” gasped the | frightened wretch, in tremulous accents. 4 _ “The voice of the dead!” was the reply. “ Assassin, you cannot escape the penalty of your crimes! Justice will have her due; murder will eh “No, no!” cried Richard ; “TI will escape it yet—I will never die on a gallows! ” Madly he plunged his heels into his horse’s side. Furiously the animal reared, and at a eam pace bounded onwards with the terrified rider. — . Richard looked again and again, but the pale rse no éonger met bis view. | ““Gone—gone!” he cried. ‘Thank God! Again I am a man—again I am at rest.” “That you will never be!” said a voice behind him. ‘The murderer knows no rest in this world !”’ Richard Clavering turned his head, and uttered a loud, piercing shriek, frightening the horse, and causing it to plunge even more furiously forward. : There, behind him on the roan mare, stood a fearful apparition—a skeleton head with a white hood, and a tall form enveloped in a black cloak. The repulsive face looked down upon -his up- turned and aftrighted features, and from the fleshless eyes a ray of light darted down into his own. ‘Your hour has come, Richard Clavering !” eaid the spectre, in a hollow tone. spun—the gallows reared—the doom of the murderer is sealed ! ” One wild, piercing cry broke from Richard's lips, he reeled in his saddle, and fell headlong to the earth. | x CHAPTER XLIX. MARTHA SCRIVENERS JOY—THE ATTEMPTED ABDUCTION. A Look of joy overspread the face of Martha Scrivener as Jack stood before her. | “Oh, I tremble for you,” she said; “but, eaven, ‘‘ you are safe. I hope, sir, you do not think I was guilty of the act imputed by that man.” * Indeed, I do uot,” said Jack. ‘* The scoundrel has learned a lesson, I hope, from the treatment he has received. Doubtless, you are anxious to learn why I desired you to wait here for me?” | “That I am, sir.” “Well, then, I have done so that I might place in your hands a certain paper, which-I forced your unfeeling relative to give up—a document, I believe, which the possession of will enable you to better your circumstances.” The woman uttered a joyful cry. “Oh, sir, you don’t say that ” “Hush!” interrupted Jack, placing his SPRING-HEEL D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. “The rope is. 14] ET hand on her arm to enjoin silence, as he perceived aman start suddenly, then slink quietly back into the shadow. ‘‘Hush! you will draw the attention of passers-by to us.” “I know I’m very foolish, sir ;- but your words so overjoyed me that I could not resist it,” said Martha Scrivener, ‘And I am overjoyed to be enabled to better your condition,” said Jack, looking upon the wan face of the woman before him. Then placing his hand in his breast he drew forth his pocket-book, and extracted from it the paper which he had frightened out of the old miser. | The woman’s eyes glistened. There,” said Jack, “take it; you to compel the aged rascal i) tice.”’ The woman snatched eagerly at it. | “Mine, mine,” she said, clasping her fingers tightly round the document. ‘Oh, thank you, sir; thank you. You have saved me from starvation, from death. But are you sure this paper will make my cruel relative give me that which he holds from me ?.” ‘* Doubtless.” “Oh, what can I say gratitude I feel ?” | ‘Say nothing, my good woman ; only do not believe Spring-heeled Jack to be so bad as he is paihted by his traducers.” — ‘* He is a man,” cried Martha, “for he has a heart that can pity another’s wretchedness. Oh, sir, I never hoped for this. I had come to that place where you met me to-night in the hope of . obtaining a few pence to buy food for another day; for it is hard to die, sir, and I was anxious to prolong my existence all I could. The coin it will enable do you jus- ? How express the you gave me so kindly had been all expended, ~ and I had but a pair of boots which I thought I could change for a few pence and a pair of old ones, and then, after that was gone, I knew not what I should have done; but now—oh, sir, thanks to you—now I shall be enabled to get food and warmth.” “I would advise you to seek a respectable lawyer in the morning, and he will tell you how to compel your uncle to do that which is right and just.” “But can I not compel him without the aid of a lawyer?” asked the woman. “You had better take my advice to spare yourself pain and trouble,” said Jack ; “ and here are a few pouuds to provide for your present necessities. ” He dropped two or three gold coins into her hand. The tears rose to the woman’s eyes. But they were tears of heartfelt gratitude. “God bless you, sir!” she said. “I feel I never can repay you for your kindness; but night and day I will pray for your happiness.: She seized his hand, and raised it to her lips, and Jack felt the scalding tears fall upon it. ‘Say no more,” said Jack, in a husky tone, for the choking sensation rose to his throat. ‘‘I am rewarded quite enough by the feeling that I have perhaps been instrumental in saving you from starvation. Go now, and do as I advise you to-morrow.” (- m Eomicbooks LT ST re Goin