Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 266: what you’re looking at

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

268 SPRING-HEEL'D JACK: extended her hand towards him, was quite suffi- cient. The outpourings of grateful hearts were in those moist eyes, and Jack almost felt that, had he been called upon to speak, a choking sensa- tion in his throat would not have permitted him to do so. : But this feeling wore away in a few seconds, ane placing the hand of Jane in that of Ellen, he said— ‘““ For my sake, love and befriend each other. For my sake, seek to be happy, and bury the past in oblivion ; and let me feel that, by aiding you, | am atoning for some of my ill-deeas ; for though I am wild and reckless, my heart is not all stone. And the feeling that I have done some good is a joy to my bosom which I can appre- ciate—a something to dwell upon with pleasure. Strive, then, to be happy, and by so doing make me the same. be to each other as sisters, and to me as a friend. I know you will, for your hearts are tender and kind, and can feel for those sufferings many have never known, and, I trust, may never experience. but I forget that I have roused you, Ellen, from your couch, and that Mrs. Slater is tired and worn out ; so I will make my stay no longer, but go home with a clad feeling here that many a better man might envy.” He took up his hat to depart, and moved towards the door—his hand upon his heart. Both sprang towaids him, and, raising their hands to his lips, he strode hurriedly from the house, as if he would fain go to hide the tear- drop that rose to bis own eye. It shamed not his manhood—it was a greater tribute to his soul than aught else could have been. No, Jack; that small tear, as it trembled on the Jash and rolled swiftly down your cheek, washed away many an indiscretion in its course, —atoned for many a thoughtless deed of thine. And while the cool morning air fanned his brow—while he walked along slowly, meditating on the scene he had witnessed—while Bill Jack- son puffed away at his short pipe, and jingled the gold coins he had received from Grasper in his pocket—and while the merchant wended his way, full of bitter and revengeful thoughts, those two young creatures who had known so much suffering and misery knelt down beside the white-curtained bed, and asked heaven’s blessings on the head of one who, let his sins be what they might, possessed a heart soft as a woman’s, and ever anxious to alleviate the pangs of the unfortunate. Time, as Jack had said, would soften the grief of Jane Slater ; but, aided by all the influences of a genial heart, the poor woman soon became to feel far more happier than she had done for some time past. | Of course the fate of her husband was: ever apparent in her mind, and knowing this, Ellen was ever on the alert to keep her thoughts in another channel, and when a week had worn away, poor Jane, if not happy, was far from wretched. They had received several visits from Jack, and our hero could not but remark the change in Jane’s appearance ; but, of course, he forebore to make any mention of it, THE TERROR OF LONDON. He had taken his departure one evening, and while the two females leaned over the little garden-gate, watching his retreating figure down the road, Ellen caught sight of a form slinking along behind him, which ghe fancied she had geen before, but when and where she could not at the time call to mind. When it had disappeared from her view, in the turn of the road, it had lkewise disappeared from her thoughts, and was entirgly forgotten. She had made no mention of 1t to her com- panion, but she would have been ill at ease had she known that the figure she had observed following our hero was that of her late landlord and persecutor, Bill Jackson. The ruffian had followed the injunctions of Ralph Grasper, and ferretted out the fact that a gentleman and lady hailed a coach in the Mile- end-road, and were driven to Holly Cottage. | This learned, Bill was set to watch the place, as Grasper resolved to be certain this time of his victim. Day after day Bill hung about the cottage, and the locality in which it was situated, but with- out seeing any person resembling Jane, whose features, of course, he would well know again. On the evening we mention, he had come to the decision in his own mind that Jane was not there at all, and had determined not to watch any longer ; in fact, he wasabout to leave the spot and return home when he caught sight of Jack, | whom of course he did not know, but ere the casual glance he had cast upon him, as he came_ through the little gate into the road, had been satisfied, he had caught sight of one whom he little expected to see—Ellen Folder. ‘Ere his surprise had died away, another figure stood by her side, and bill Jackson fairly stag- cered. ; 7 It was Jane Slater ! Shrinking back into the shadow of the wall of. a neighbouring garden, Bill watched them as they bade our hero good night, and when Jack had gone some distance along the road, Bill wedged half the contents of his iron tobacco box into his mouth, and followed after him in high spirits. “Found at last,’’ he muttered. ‘By jingo! but [ll have another night at The Flyers, fer Grasper will come down like a prince.” And so he did. For after Jack had hailed a coach and driven off, Bill retired to the low beer-house, and, in the exuberance of his spirits, stood lots of beer to the company, who marked their gratitude for his liberality by hinting to each other that he had stolen the money by which it was paid for. But of course Bill did not hear the foul impu- tation on his character, it would have been better, perhaps, if he had for Mrs. Jackson, as he might have been goaded to show his pugilistic powers at The Flyers instead of at home ; for Bill, after being turned out at the close of the house, mad drunk, commenced a furious onslaught on his wife the moment he stumbled into the passage— his excuse for so doing being that she had not stood prepared to save him from knocking his head against the wall, and held the door, soas to prevent it slipping from his hand. Having thus finished up the day, he retired to bed, without undressing, and awoke in the morn- | oele) Comic S.¢coO