Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 265: what you’re looking at

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

a ne o SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. 267 \ ie ee ee : CHAPTER XCTI. JOY AND SORROW —BILL’S DISCOVERY — THE MERCHANT S GLADNESS. A¥TER having effectually . baffled his pursuers, and quieted the fears of Jane Slater, Jack, as we have before observed, proceeded with his companion in the direction of Holly Cottage, situated near where Victoria Park now stands. After a walk of some minutes, without meeting with any cause of alarm, the rumble of wheels on the deserted road caused Jack to pause and listen, and he soon discovered that the vehicle was coming towards them, and he judged from the sound that it was a hackney coach, and an empty one, too. . Anxious to arrive at the cottage as speedily as possible, and likewise to prevent any possibility of discovery, he resolved to await the approach of the vehicle. He had not to wait long ere it came up, and | Jack instantly hailed the man on the box. As he had expected, the vehicle was empty, and, placing Jane inside, bade the driver to proceed to Holly Cottage, and drive quick. The man obeyed this injunction to the letter, and in a short space of time the vehicle drew up before a small detached cottage standing about twenty feet from the road, and surrounded by a small but neatly kept flower garden. Having dismissed the driver, and waited till the coach had rolled away, Jack pulled the bell at the side of the little gate. Then, turning to his companion, remarked— | “Would you like to live here ?” Jane sighed as she looked up at the pretty little dwelling ; then, turning her gaze on Jack’s face, she said— “Were I happy, there is no spot on earth I could crave for more than this. But ”—-- “ But what ?” “Can you ask? ‘The cross-roads:”’ And the woman burst into tears. “Do not grieve so,” said Jack. ‘Time, if it will not obliterate the sad past, will tend to soften your sorrow. ’Tis, I know, easy to preach, but hard to practice; and those who advise seldom take it. But strive, for your own sake, to think less of your affliction. In the society of the fair girl who lives here you will doubtless find much relief to your sufferings. I fear I have alarmed her by this unseasonable sum- mons.” A light appeared at one of the windows, the sash of which was gently raised. “Who is there?” asked a soft, sweet voice, _ which Jack recognised as that of Ellen’s. “It is me—Jack.”’ “At this hour!” said the girl. ‘‘ My good friend, what brings you ‘hither at such an un- seasonable time ?”’ ‘The desire to assist an unfortunate fellow- creature, Miss Ellen,” said Jack, “‘and intro- duce to you a poor lady whom I am sure you will receive with kindness, for my sake.” “T see you are not alone.” “No; or I kid not come here at this hour,” | = COomicbooks -co. said Jack, in a tone which bespoke his willing- hess to do anything but cause a breath of slander to fall upon the fair occupant of the cottage. “I will hurry down and give you admittance,’’ said Ellen, disappearing from the window. - Jane had felt a thrill run through her heart aus the tones of the poor seamstress fell on her ears. There was something in the soft accents which seemed to assure her that Ellen pos- sessed a kind and gentle soul, and she longed to press her to her bosom, and pour out all her sorrows._in her ear. Not long did Ellen keep them waiting. In the course of about two minutes those outside heard the door-bolts withdrawn, and saw a sylph-like figure hurrying along the little gravelled path towards the gate. ‘“My good, kind friend,” said Ellen, placing the key in tke gate-lock with one hand, and extending the other to Jack, ‘‘I am delighted to see you.” | ‘At this hour,” he said, “and after, per- haps, arousing you from some pleasant dream, I think I ought to apologise for thus breaking upon your slumbers. But I am sure you will forgive me when I tell you for what I have come. But we won't talk here.” And taking the arm of Ellen, the three went into the house, and entered the little parlour where Ellen loved to sit and pray to heaven to reward Jack for his kindness to her. A. few words from our hero explained the motive of his unseasonable visit, and. when he had concluded, Ellen turned to Jane, who stood gazing abstractedly on the fluor, and flinging her \arms around the young widow’s neck, drew her to her bosom and burst into tears. The sight of Ellen’s grief opened the foun-. tains of Jane’s heart afresh, and, locked in each other’s arms, they mingled their tears together. These two fair creatures, whom Fate had so frowned upon—who had suffered so much, and who, though so young, had drank deeply of sorrow. It wanted not words to express to each other their feelings. Their tears told it more elo- quently than words could have done. Their hearts yearned towards each other. Suffering and misery bound them, in an instant, in the firmest friendship. Jack stood aside, a silent spectator, nor did he attempt to stem the torrent of thet tears. He knew that they would relieve the overloaded | hearts of the poor girls, and that they would find relief by suffering them freely to flow. But he also felt an inward gratification at being the means of saving both these poor women from great suffering and death, and in that feeling he found his reward. Grief, however violent, cannot last for ever, neither can tears continue to flow—the well- springs of the heart sooner or laterdry up. —_* Their violent sobs gave place to softer sighs, and then the tear-bedewed faces were turned to- wards Jack ; and, though no word was uttered by either, the look they fixed upon him, as each