Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 177: what you’re looking at

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

SPRING-HEEL'D JACK’: ““ Where does it lead to?” - “The coal-cellars and stables.” “And so out into the back street.’’ ees,” Jack had learned all he desired. This would account for Mr. Larkin not being able, despite the watch he had set, to discover the robber. “So, said Jack, after a pause, during which time the man had been tremblingly gazing upon him, but fearful to rise lest he should find him- self in the grasp of our hero—‘‘so, my fine féllow, I suppose you have made something handsome by your nightly visits to this place ? ” - Not much—not much.” - “Do you drink it all? But there I need not ask, only to see what a har you are as well as a thief.’ | _ No, E sell it.” ~“ And what reward do you expect to meet with—eh ?” The man was silent. : “Yb tell you,” said Jack. ‘A long term of imprisonment as a warning to others, and, finally, a warm berth in my regions.” ““ Mer—mer—mercy !” gasped the man. “Oh! I will never come here again. I will never do wrong any more. Mer—oh! oh!” His further utterance was put a stop to by Jack giving the empty cask a sudden tilt, and sending it over the kneeling man. With such precision did he manage to fulfil his purpose, that the cask completely shut out all but the fellow’s legs and feet from his view. Then seizing the lantern, Jack held it high up ‘above his head, and darted with it behind the bin, where he perceived a small door half open, and darting through this, closed, it instantly, and found ‘himself in a cellar used for storing wood and coals. | Looking hastily around him, he seized a large billet of wood, and planted it securely against the» door, so that no ordinary pressure from _ the opposite side could force it open, and then looked about for another means of egress from the cellar. 7 Cee tueee) CHAPTHR, TX JACK MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE, AND BETTERS | HIS CONDITION. OLDING the lantern above his head, our hero glanced around the cellar, and perceived a door which led into the stable. . “So, this is how the rascal has been able to carry on his pilfering' without being discovered,” he muttered. ‘‘ It is hard for employers to be robbed like this by those who profess to serve them, and it is harder still for those who hold similar situations to be looked upon with theeye of suspicion, as one and allin this establishment must have been. Jam not the man to desire to band a fellow’ creature into the hands of, justice, and be instrumental in branding him as a felon ; but I certainly think, for the sake of his fellow servants, I ought to see, that the rascal is dis- covered, | Now, to get out of bere the way that. fellow got in, Oh! I.see, that door leads out into the mews.” ) THE TERROR OF: LONDON. He strode across the stables, and placed hi hand on the door. | It opened instantly. ‘I will leave the lantern here,’ muttered Jack, “and remove my mask, and then consider the best course to adopt to make Mr. Larkin pone with the fact of the discovery of the lef, He placed the lantern on the ground near the door, took off his mask, and passed out into the mews, when he was brought to a sudden stop by perceiving a miserable-looking object crouched in « small stairway that led up to the apartments ‘above a neighbouring stable. There was not much light yet, but still there was sufficient to enable Jack to make out the object before him, and to discover that the poor wretch was asleep. His garments were ragged and dirty, and his whole appearance was that of the utmost wretch- edness and misery. ‘“ Poor devil!” said Jack, commiseratingly, as he gazed down upon the huddled heap of humanity at his feet. ‘‘ What a blessing to such as him must sleep be. ‘Those are the only hours of happiness such as he can know when slumber steeps the soul in forgetfulness. It is hard to arouse him to a sense of his wretchedness, but may I not awake him to joy. Larkin promised twenty pounds to anyone who would expose the thief. Twenty pounds to me is nothing, but what may it not be to this man !”’ He bent lower down over the sleeping wretch, and, touching his shoulder, said— ‘‘ Wake up, here.”’ _ The man awoke.and started to his feet. ‘‘ What are you doing here?’ said Jack, as the man gazed. haif frightened in his face. “Trying to get a bit of sleep,” said the fellow ; * but such as you, who have got beds to lay on, can have no feeling for them as ain’t.” ‘‘ You are severe.” ‘“ Am 1?” growled the man, “I got cause to be.” _* Doubtless,” said Jack. “ Have you no home ?”’ ~The man laughed, But, oh! what.a laugh! it was worse than any-groan he could have uttered. “ Surely you are not compelled to lay about the streets like this ?”’ said Jack. ‘“‘ Certainly not,’ saidthe man. ‘‘ There’s the workhouse to go to.” ‘Then why do you not go there ?”’ “ Why not?” Cr ivess” ‘¢ Because I can’t bear to,” said the man. ‘‘ Perhaps it’s better than laying in doorways and on cold stones, but ” He paused abruptly. ‘But what?” said Jack. The man looked hard at him for some moments, and then said— | ‘¢ Nothing. We havemet before. I know we have, though then I_saw not your face. You were masked.” “ Ah!” cried Jack. ‘¢ Aye, I know you,” said the man, leaping forward, and. grasping our hero’s arm, “ You 9? Lal =—— DY AATKEl ovoyel KS.(efo' in