Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 220: what you’re looking at

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

— 222 SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: head. ‘* You cannot harm him now, while I am near. Back! I say—back! He is my husband —my James. Who says he is a forger? You lie—you lie! He is too good, too noble, to. be culty of such a deed. Don’t touch him, or I will kill you, where you stand. Back! if say ! Away! away! You shall not harm him! James, my own loved James ! they shall kill me ere they touch you.” And thus wildly raving she fliin’ herself flat down upon the yielding “earth, and clutched at the sod with her hands. | “Cold, cold!” she continued, after a pause, and laying her hands flat. upon the cle earth. “Cold as death ! They have killed him! and he will never smile upon me more. Never more will his warm kiss thrill through my veins. He is dead—dead ! ” Her form trembled, but still no tears came to relieve the burning heart, or quench the con- suming fires of the brain. A maniacal gleam was in her eye. was fast settling on her brain. “Dead!” she cried ; “but no, no! mised to save him—he, master. would go to his house. I willgo. _He cannot deny my prayers—will not. Oh, no! Yes, I will away at once. et me see.- What did he say ? Ah! ITremember now. ‘Cometo me and I will save your husband.’ He is a good man, and will Keep his word. Wait till I come back, and I will ‘bring you pardon and safety, and all our miseries shall again turn to joy.. Silence, James! Do not speak, do not go out, but ‘wait till T return, then all will be well—all will be well!” Slowly she rose from the earth. But, oh, God ! what a fearful change was in that face on which the sunbeams now shone brightly ! There was a vacaut expression in ‘every lineament of her features, a lustreless look im her once gleaming eye. Suffering nad done its work at last. Villany had shattered one of nature’s noblest images. Jane Slater's reason had tottered from its throne—the wretched woman was a maniac ! Every rational sense she had possessed was now buried in the suicide grave of her husband, and she was alone in the wide world, bereft of all but life ! Of all the maladies which assail the human form, there is none so fearful as idiosynerasy. The light of reason flown, life is but a painful shadow, a phantom of humanity. One of the peculiarities of madness is, that the sufferer often shows the greatest abhorrence for their dearest friends, and an unbounded affec- tion for their direst enemies. With the loss of reason an utter change ap- pears to come over the heart. The sufferer weeps where he should smile, and smiles where Madness He pro- Ralph Grasper, his Yes, he promised to save him if I) I will fly to him. THE TERROR OF LONDON, tunity to claim the soul of his victim, and inflict fresh pancs upon the heart of. the. good © and true, had waited for this moment, the guilty merchant stood before her at the side of her hus- band’s grave—stood there with the sunlight playing upon his disfigured face—stood there gazing with alla demon’s joy upon the fearful wreck his guilty soul had made. The miscreant saw at a glance the fearful truth, and his base heart bounded within his’ bosom. He was no stranger to the fact that with the — fall of reason the idiot forgot the persecutor— that madness would prove his best ally in his wicked schemes. The wretch had followed the patrol, to wliom he had given notice of Jack’s pr esence, for some distance along the-road ; but not seeing ‘anything of either, after a short time, had made his way - slowly back to the end of the cross roads, and, unseen by Jane, had been a witness to all that had transpired. Nay, he had even heard the latter on of her wild ravings, and then it was that he appear ed” before her. Tike a fiend as he was, he gloated upon the wretch before him. She was alone, with none near to aid or Leawiae her ; she was alone with him on whom she now looked as her dearest friend ; alone, without — other protection than heaven. His glance was returned by Jane with a vacant stare for some moments. ‘Then the linea-” ments of her face gradually expanded into a sickly smile, though no beam shot from the lus- treless eyes of the demented woman. val b “You are Ralph Grasper,” she said, taking a _ step nearer to the BRON and placing her hand upon his arm. : “Yes, Jane’;. and your dearest fiend? hh “he” said, in a voice ‘intended to be kindly. § © And he hedged closer to her, and placed his arm around her waist. She did not hurl it from her as she would” have done before. She did not spurn him with a look of ida i tion and loathing as in times gone by. — No. She placed her own arm around ni | neck, and looked with her expressionless eyes into his own. Oh that she could have read there the passion which shone in them ! But heaven denied her that power, and the miscreant strained her to his wicked - heart, pressed his fulsome lips to her colourless cheek, and murmured in low, soft tones— “My own dear Jane !’ adh “You are my friend, the friend of my hus- band,” she whined. “ You will not let them tear him from’ me ? jail—kill him ! here,” They would take him to But they shall not, for you are “TT am here,’ To this, poor Jane Slater was no exception, ~ Ves, for you can save him and me. icyou For, when reason fell, and madness asserted its | will—you will,” she cried | sway over her brain, she thought of the villain! ‘TI ean. But —— Grasper, who had br ought all “this misery upon| “ But what?” her, as her best and dearest friend ; ; and asif) “You must come with me,” he said, leading he should weep; hates where he should love, | " echoed the culty wretch. “ “Aud and loves where he should hate. ‘I am happy that I am'so.’ the king of hell, ever watchful for an oppor-| her away from the edge of the grave, ‘lest. the: re ——— | 900 Comic <S:€O