Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 267: what you’re looking at

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

SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: ing with a bump on his forehead, a filthy taste in his mouth, and a feeling of gratification in his heart at the discovery he had made, and instantly commenced to bully his wife because his break- fast Was not ready, swearing that he had told her he wanted to go out early. Of course the meek, frightened woman busied herself to provide the meal, and in an hour Bill was on his way to Grasper’s to communicate his success, and receive the reward of his services. The merchant was in high glee at the intelli- gence, and paid the rascal lhberally for his dirty _ work, and when he had gone, he set himself to thinking the best course to pursue to inflict fresh pangs upon that heart he had already made suffer so much and so cruelly. —_——_—oreaoer- CHAPTER XCII. SURPRISED BY SAD NEWS—ON THE SEARCH. StumBertnc London had awoke, and poured forth itsthousands of toilers into the streets, and the busy hum which broke the silence that had reioned throughout the night aroused from a refreshing sleep the young man whom Jack had induced the waggoner to carry to London— Richard Folder, or, as we may now call him, Clavering. The good meal of which he had partaken the night before—a luxury which to him had been a stranger for some days—had tended oreatly to strengthen his weak frame, and he leaped from his bed, with a glow upon his cheek, and without that languid feeling so common to him. ~ Having breakfasted, he went to the house in which the body of Mrs. Folder lay, and he had not been there more than ten minutes, when the coffin he had ordered on the day before was brought into the apartment by two men. The corpse was placed within its last house, under his immediate superintendence, and when the undertakers had.taken their departure he sat himself down in one of the old chairs, and waited the arrival of his new-found friend. Punctual to the moment, Jack arrived ; and even if he had not done so, no doubt would have entered the mind of Richard as to his honesty of purpose. | There was something which seemed to draw him towards our hero. It was not only the fact of his having be- friended him on the road, or his asserted know- ledge of his sister’s whereabouts, but a some- thing which he could not describe to himself, one of those peculiar feelings which will cling to us despite all we do, or any argument we may use, to upset. He sprang up, with a smile, as Jack knocked upon the panels of the door of the room, ad extended his hand, as he crossed the thresh- old. Our hero grasped it warmly, and reverently raised his hat as his eye fell upon the black object resting upon tressels, and extending nearly across the room. There is a feeling of awe which pervades the ES BREE THE TERROR OF LONDON. hushed in the room of death, the footstep 1s ~~ y Le <a — 2 —eeeeeeEeEEeEeEeEeEeeeeee eee 269 bosoms of even the most callous-hearted, when in the presence of soulless clay,—the voice is noiseless, the movements slow, as if fearful of awaking that which will never more awake in this world,—aud it was in a whisper that Jack spoke, as he greeted the young man. “You have been anxious, doubtless, for my arrival,” he said, after a moment’s pause, and looking at the young man asif he would read in his face the answer. “ Yes,—and, no,” replied Richard. Jack smiled at so strange a reply. ‘‘] was anxious for your coming, because l wish to see my sister ; but had you not come, I should have felt assured other and more pressing business alone caused you to break your appoint- ment with me.” « And notadoubt of my honesty ?” said Jack, half suspiciously. ‘¢ Indeed, no.’ Jack looked hard at him. The young man stood the scrutiny. ““T believe you,” said Jack. “You may, indeed.” = ‘But have you no question to ask me? ” said Jacl, | “Questions ? ” | eVies: ’ ‘‘ Respecting what, sir ?”’ “The pa¢ket you entrusted to my care,’ said our hero. 4 ‘Tam sure you will only do what you deem est.’ “T am glad of that,” said Jack. ‘‘ And you shall have no cause to alter your good opinion of me,” “T am certain I shall not.” ‘‘T may as well inform you that yesterday J placed the papers confided by you to me in the hands of an eminent solicitor of Lincoln’s Inn, and begged him to give me an opinion as soon as possible.” : “Tam obliged for your kindness,” said Richard. ‘‘ And he did not fail to doas [ desired. For, last evening, after a careful perusal of them, he informed me that he had little doubt bus that your claim could be established,” said Jack. The young man’s heart bounded joyfully in his bosom. ‘Ves, He doubts not but that you will obtain possession of the title and estates, now held by a cousin of the late supposed Richard Clavering, who died in Newgate.” 7 “Oh, 1am so delighted! But ’’—— He paused: quickly. “But what 7?” asked Jack. “Though I ean be nothing but happy at the prospect of such an unexpected and unlooked- for fortune, sir, I feel a pang of sorrow at the disappointment of the present holder.” ‘He is nothing to you,”’ said Jack. “Only the same as IL am toyou,’ said Richard—“ a fellow-man.”’ Jack looked up from beneath his brows, and a sniile of gratification stole over his face. ‘ Richard Clavering,’ he said, ‘‘you are a noble-hearted fellow.” “T must say the same of you, Spring-heeled Jack.” | | 26™=COni