Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 304: what you’re looking at

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

306 SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. strange an incident had thrown him, the young artist darted behind his easel, and stood face to face with our hero. ‘““Happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Delaine,” said Jack. The artist measured Jack with his eye from top to toe for several seconds. | ‘‘And who the devil are you, sir, ’d like to know ?” he said, his voice choked with passion, and his face red with indignation. “One who trusts you will forgive the little trick played in your studio upon the old lady who wished to be thought young, and was un- willing to acknowledge your talants. You have heard of me, doubtless—a sad scapesrace— Spring-heeled Jack!” “Ah!” said the artist, stepping back, and again measuring our hero with his eye, as if he would read the strength of his muscles and the probabilities of success should he seek to effect his capture. “Yes, sir, I have the honour to be your servant, Spring-heeled Jack !’’ | “ What do you do here, sir?” cried the in- dignant artist. ‘“‘Seeking to cultivate the acquaintance and friendship of a man of no mean talent,” was the reply. | ‘‘ And this is how you go about it!” The artist pointed to the canvas. Jack bowed. “ By ruining me, insulting my patrons, and destroying my labours,” said Delaine, bitterly. “Pray don’t be hard upon me,” said Jack, ‘© What was the worth of the portrait ?”’ Ten guineas,” “Ten 2?” Yes.” ‘Then fifty will pay for it.”’ “* Fifty pay for it? What do you mean, sir ?”’ said the artist. “ That, being willing to patronise talent, I will give you fifty for it,’’ said Jack. *¢ But it’s spoilt.”’ ‘* T know that.” “Look you, sir,” said Delaine, clenching his fist, and advancing in a threatening attitude ; ‘*- you may play your pranks where you like, but not with me. Iam not the man to tamely sub- mit to insult or injury in my own house.”’ “Tm glad to hear you say so. But, come; we will not quarrel. Take this.” . He drew out his pocket-book, and placed a small roll of notes in the other’s hand, “You will find fifty pounds. there, the value of the picture I destroyed.” The artist looked at the little packet, as if he could not believe the evidence of his senses. He turned them over in his hands several times, then gazed up in the smiling face of Jack. , ‘““What does this mean?” he asked, in a puzzled tone. Well, I willtell you. You must know, in the first place, that I had occasion to horsewhip a rascal who grossly insulted me. He obtained the assistance of friends and sought my capture, for you are, doubtless, acquainted with the fact that a reward has been offered to any person who will lodge me in gaol. To avoid him I ; i. nS es _.= _COMICRDOCOKS. made bold to enter this house. Here I over- heard your conversation with the lady, and, feel- ing assured that she would never take the picture, or else pay you nothing equivalent to its value for it, i resolved to give her a shock—destroy the painting, and pay you its worth.” “ But—fifty pounds ! ” “Ts it not enough ?”’ “ T am not a robber!” ‘“T did not say you were.’ ‘But [ should be did I take this sum. Ten will satisfy me,”’ said the artist. “But not me,’ said Jack. ‘* The portrait was a work of art, and you set too mean a value on ‘your talents, besides this freak of mine may be the means of your losing patronage ; so I pray you accept the money, and let us part friends.” “ With all my heart,” said the now delighted artist, extending his hand, which Jack grasped. ‘‘ As the road is clear, I will again set forth on my journey. Some day I may ask you to paint my portrait.” The artist looked hard a‘ him. ‘¢ But it must be a life-like picture, mind you.” “To be sure. I should be happy to doit now,” ~ said Delain. ? orm “Thank you; but I have not yet sowed my wild oats. WhenI have I will put aside the mask, and then you shall do it. I promise you, at present, I have little care that my face should be seen or recognised. I have not yet learned enough of the world.”’ 5 ali ‘‘ And you seek to learn it in this disenise ?” ‘Yes; for J am neither apoet nor an artist. I would know it—as it really is not as imagin- ation may picture it. But I have trespassed too long, and if we ever meet again I trust you will not A formed a bad opinion of Spring-heeled Jack.”’ | He shook the artist’s hand, and gathering his cloak about him, walked out of the house, leaving Delain in the middle of the room gazing alter- nately upon the shattered canvas and the bank- notes which were to recompense him for its injury. It was drawing towards evening, and Jack felt that he must hurry on if he would reach the next town by nightfall, where he resolved to hire a post-chaise and return to London. He had yet five or six miles to go, and he put his best leg foremost, as the saying is. He kept a sharp look-out on the road for the squire’s party, whom he thought it was probable he might meet, but saw nothing of them, and, ‘as the night closed over the earth, he came in view of a little thriving town, the lights of which he could see far over a mile ere he reached it. — Making his way to the principal hostelry, he ordered refreshments, and asked to be accom- modated with a post-chaise. | The landlord could not reply with his request then, but stated that one would be home before midnight, if he would delay his journey till its arrival. To this, Jack assented, as it was either journey on foot or, to wait, and as the second pleased him better than the first, he adopted the alternative. Having finished his meal and partaken of a glass or two of wine, he lit a cigar, and left the hostelry with the intention of having a walk 0m |