Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 253: what you’re looking at

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

SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. tine, unable to suppress her smites, turned her face away. Tobias was fairly beside himself with joy, and his little form trembled with emotion. He could hardly keep himself still, so inclined did he feel to give vent to his exuberant feelings by dancing about the room. The staid, methodical man of business and the _ now happy Tobias Bacon were vastly different persons. His whole nature seemed to have become changed; and had any of his London acquaintances seen him then they must have thought him deranged. : And so he was. Love had turned his brain, as it has that of many a man beside himself. A woman had made a fool of him, and he was not the first. He had been a clever man. But what availed his cleverness with such a bewitching creature as Florentine? He was but the mouse in the paws of the cat, and the wily woman knew well how best to treat him. With apparent confusion, she implored him to suffer her to retire for a short time to compose herself. The affair had been so sudden, so un- expected—had taken her so by surprise. The confession had been wrune from her ere she could think how rash she had been to reveal the affection she bore him ; she was ashamed of her boldness—nervous, trembling. She must retire for a short time to compose her feelings. With a lingering pressure of the hand, he suffered her to depart, and, with a throbbing heart and heaving bosom, he watched her till she had disappeared from the apartment. ‘ Mine! mine !”’ he cried, as the door closed behind her stately form. ‘‘Oh! I am the happiest man in the world. Tol-de-rol-liddle- lol !” ? And the little man capered about the room with a step as lively as a boy’s of fourteen. Tn the excitement he heard not the low, sar- castic chuckle outside the door—the suppressed titter that broke from the lips of the lovely woman as she was met on the landing by no less a personage than Sir Timothy Tumberlain. “Well, Flar, what success?” he asked. “The old fool came to the point at once,’ was the reply. “You don’t say so?” “Ves, You had scarcely gone out of the room when he was down on his knees,”’ said the girl, “‘ pouring out such a rigmarole, that I had the hardest trouble in the world ~-to prevent laughing in his face.” “ Good!” said Timothy. ‘“ Keep him up to it, and we'll soon have all the yellow-boys in his banker’s hand. But I say, Flor, I must be off to town now.” What for ?” “To wet that cheque cashed the old stupid was so eager to draw,’ was the reply. By jingo! but we'll cut adash, I reckon, now. I was drained out completely, and was _ beating about for a chance of getting some ready. That wasn’t bad of you, Flor, to come down with two hundred and thirty !” “ He!he!’’ laughed the woman. ‘I thought he would takethe bait, I wonder what he is worth ?” 255 ‘< He’s precious warm, I expect ; but we'll cool him before we’ve done with him, eh, Flor ?’ ““ Rather !”’ | And the woman winked her eye mischiey- ously. “So, he’s head over ears in love with you, is he, Flor ?’ ‘““ Adores me.” “Then put the strain on his pocket at once, without seeming todo so. Jewellery, you know, Flor, is very handy to raise a few pounds on when hard up.” | “ But I don’t intend to be hard up just yet,” said Florentine. ‘* Lor’! I wonder what sort of a look the old boy would give if he knew I was your wife ?”’ “Or if he knew that I was only Timothy Brown, blackleg and swindler, and you had been lacsed for shoplifting—that our aristocratic ac- quaintances are kite-flyers, mat-drawers, parlour- jumpers, mumpers stags,” etc., etc. And, with a srin, Timothy stuck his tongue in his cheek, and turned away. “ Are you going to London, directly ?” asked Florentine, following him down the stairs. “Yes,” “When will you be back ?” “To-morrow. ’ “What excuse shall I make to the old boy for not seeing you again to-night ?” ; ‘“¢ Any you like.”’ “Very well. Good bye!” “Ta—ta, old girl. Don’t fail to hang on to him like a leech. Now’s your time to tog up swellish. Mind he don’t slip away. Keep him in tow ; and when you have got all you can out of him, me and Jemmy—the count, I mean— will have the rest.” i.“ Let you alone for that, Tim. What a pity you wern’t born a gentleman,” said Florentine, looking admiringly upon Timothy as he stuck his gold-rimmed eye-glassin his eye, and laid back his shirt-frill. “A gentleman! Humph! I am one as the world goes. If I had been born a gentleman, it ain’t likely I should have picked up with you. It’s quite enough that fools take me for one— that is, those who look upon the coat as the badge of gentility. Thesnob is the man who is flattered, and favoured, too. A gentleman! Why, what an unpretending, unostentatious being I should be. True gentility would not agree with my disposition.” ‘Well, never mind, Tim. You are not the only humbug who apes the gentleman.” “Not by a few thousands,” said Tim, with a laugh. ‘Only to those who know me, Flora! I am willing to admit what Iam, It does amuse me sometimes to see the jumped-up jackasses try to @ake those who know better believe they are what they so ridiculously carica- ture. Anyone with a grain of sense can see through the flimsy covering of the snob, if he’ll only take the trouble to look. SBut one half of the world is blind, and, for my sake, I hope it will keep so—at least, till I have made enough to live on out of the idiots who cannot tell the difference between black and white. Good- bye, old girl. Play your cards well, and our fortune is made,” il | VOOK comic | (E)