Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 290: what you’re looking at

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

( > ) woman is there—really, I beg her pardon for calling her old, though I would rather swear she was sixty than thirty—she will not see me, especially if I keep along behind the hedge as far as it goes. That will take me,almost to the side of that window, and then one step places me behind the screen.” Having decided on this course, Jack was not long in making his way to the side of the long window. One hasty glance to see that the coast was clear, and he passed through it into the room. Keeping close to the sereen, and as much on one side of the window as possible, Jack listened. Not a sound. He raised his head, and peepned over the screen. | There was no one in the apartment. But his eye fell on a large oak chest, just on the other side of the screen; and he passed round, and examined it minutely. It was very large and very massive, having two large iron handles on either side, and an immense lock, with a key in the wards, in the front. “If I were Tomkins, I should feel disposed to stop the old lady’s tongue by shutting her up with her brandy,’ mused Jack. ‘‘ The trunk is large enough to hold her.”’ At that moment the harsh voice of the lady addressing the servant saluted his ears. ‘Mary, take Mr. Tomkins’s plate away. I will dine alone to-day. If he wants any dinner, let him cook and eat his fish by himself. He shan’t sit down with me.” ‘“Yes,mum. The dinner’s a spiling, mum,” said the maid, from another part of the house. ‘* Shall I take it up, mum?” . | _ “Yes,” replied the lady. “TI shall be ready In & minute.’’ Then Jack heard her footfall approaching the room, and was about to get behind the screen, when a thought struck him, and, hastily fling- -ing up the lid of the large box, he stepped into it. | It contained nothing but a few black bottles, and as the lock of the room door clattered in the fingers of Mrs. Tomkins, Jack took off his hat, and sunk all of a heap in the trunk, pulling the lid down on top of him. He had scarce done so, ere the lady entered the room. | ‘Oh, dear me!” she exclaimed, as she closed the door softly behind her. ‘‘ Was ever poor woman tried like me? JI declare, if it was not for the good a little drop of brandy does me, that man’s conduct would kill me outright. He don't deserve to have a good wife, he don’t! But, there! it all comes of marrying an old man. I should have bsen wise, and looked out for a dashing young fellow, after my poor dear Samuel died! But women are such weak and confiding creatures, so easily imposed on! But there’s one comfort—a little drop of spirits will ease their pains, and ’m never without a drop in the box. | She had approached the box, and her hand rested on the lid. “Ah!” she sighed; “what a blessing it is be | comicboo SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. that there’s such a thing as brandy! When one’s spirits is down, another spirit raises—— oh! oh! Murder! Tomkins! my dear Tom- kins, save me! save me!” To the unspeakable horror of Mrs. Tomkins, the lid of the box flew out of her hand, and up sprang the gaunt figure of Spring-heeled Jack right before her, who, as the old lady fell back- wards into an arm-chair screaming lustily, placed his hand upon his heart, and made a low obeisance. ‘You are fond of spirits, madam,” he said, in his hollow tone. ‘‘ Permit me to introduce your humble servant—the devil !” CHAPTER XCIX. UPROAR.—THE FLIGHT AND HOW IT CAME TO THE HOUSEHOLD IN AN THROUGH THE GARDEN, AN END. — For some moments the old lady lay back, half- fainting with terror, with her head hanging over the back of the chair, and, in her fright, terribly crushing her bonnet, which she had not removed since she had entered the house ; and our hero, with the brim of his hat pressed against his chest, with his head bowed and body bent, looked up from under his brows at the terror- stricken woman. After her first ery of terror, the lady’s volu- ble tongue apparently became paralyzed. | The organ on which she played so furiously, to the dismay of her spouse, here became tune- less—not a note could she get out of 1t—though it was evident from the motions of her almos bloodless lips that she tried hard. | But the shock had silenced her. Yes, Jack had done more in one single moment than poor Mr. Tomkins had been enabled to accomplish in six years—more, in fact, than he ever hoped to accomplish in the rest of the days allotted to him. | Certainly it was more than Mrs. Tomkins herself would have given any man credit for—- she would as soon have believed a babe could stop the roll of the ocean than anything short of death prevent her having her say. | With her head laying on the back of the arm —_ chair, and her eyes fixed on the figure in the box, © Mrs Tomkins at length succeeded in giving vent to a sort of hysterical sob. This was followed in rapid succession by another, and another ; and then the feet began to beat a strange tattoo on the floor of the apart- ment. | (Juicker and quicker became the movement, and then a wild, half laugh, half cry escaped her, and Jack knew that the lady had gone into a fit of hysterics. } “That's more than Tomkins could do, Pll wager,’ said Jack, stepping from the box; ‘‘and I think he owes mea debt of gratitude for so befriending him as to possibly prevent the old lady indulging her scold -for a little while. Hallo! here’s either the old man or the maid coming.” A. footstep had reached his ear, and he quickly <s=Conl