Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: ~ mask to remove it, when he heard a stealthy step just outside the vault. Jack strained his eyes through the darkness, towards where the little black door was situated, and drew his white cloak closer around him. The door opened, and the figure of a man could just be traced by Jack in the square opening. He held his breath, and continued to gaze anxiously. - He had no doubt that it was Joe, though he was unable to trace more than the outline of a human figure. | He had no fear that he wou'd be discovered himself till the maa entered the vault, or he revealed himself, for the blackness of the place was so dense, that no object could be seen with- out the aid of a light. *“* But,” thought Jack, all at once, “ suppose the rascal should throw his ill-gotten gain into the vault, and go away, I shall be baulked of my gratification, and he will not get the reward I intended for him, unless I follow and give him a fright among the tombstones. Jack was about to leap off his seat, when, muttering a long curse at the darkness, Joe stepped over the threshold of the black door, and stood in the vault. Then pushing the door partly to behind him, and still holding it with one hand, and looking towards the front light of the churchyard he- yond, he struck a phosphorous match on its panels. = The instant the match ignited Joe shut the door close, evidently because the licht strengthened his courage for one thing—and for the other, from fear of its glimmer being seen outside the vault. Holding it so as to permit the flame to burn up brightly, he dropped the bundle at his feet, and placed his disengaged hand in his pocket for the purpose of extracting a piece of wax taper to ignite from the match, when he turned his head half-fearfully round, and catching sight of the horrible figure sitting on the coffin, he uttered a loud shriek of terror, dropped the match from his hand, and grasped at the door of the vault, which in his terror he did not succeed in laying hold of, and stumbling against the bundle, fell heavily to the ground. Jack slipped quietly from the coffin. In an instant Joe sprang to his feet, but so great was his terror, that he had completely forgotten the position of the door, and in his eagerness to escape, he stretched forth both hands and clutched at the coffin which Jack had just vacated. With another ery of terror Joe sprang back. The perspiration had started in cold drops from every pore of his body. His limbs were trembling as if he had been struck with palsy, and his teeth chattered so laudly, that in the stillness of that vault they sounded like the rattling of a dice-box, and added even to the terrors of the already affrighted man. Agairf he sought to find the door, when his cdat was clutched from behind, and he was dragged violently back against the side of the coffin. The blow resounded through the hollow vault like a clap of thunder, and its echoes mingled with the shriek of the terrified man. ' A moment he appeared to stand bewildered THE TERROR OF LONDON. em eee ——“Ct— me — —_ eee ee eee 2 ee mm eee eS le ee oe Se 27 and horror-struck, then with a bound he again sprung for the door. As he grasped at it a soft substance struck against his face, and once more he recoiled, Jack had silently raised the bundle from the eround and thrust it against Joe’s cheek. “Oh! this is horrible!” gasped the guilty wretch, as he once more came in contact with the coffin. | “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Jack, in a hollow tone. The sound echoed around the vault, and, to the affrishted senses of Joe, appeared to come from the coffin. All strength deserted him now, and he. stag- gered back till his shoulders rested against the side of the vault, and holding out his hands before him, he leaned for support against the cold brickwork, and gasped for breath. Frantically he glared through the darkness with starting eyeballs. His hair he could feel was stretching out and standing up on his head. His knees knocked together, and he felt that oradually his limbs were sinking under him. Oh, how he strove to cry for help ! His tongue, however, clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a sound. His lips became parched. and dry, and his breath came in short gasps. _ His heart beat against his side as if it would burst through his bosom, and its throbbing he could plainly hear in the awful stillness. . Truly he was terribly punished, for great indeed was the agony he endured. | Suddenly a strange luminous gleam of’ blue light played upon the coffin, and, as horror-stru Joe gazed towards it, he could just see the dim outline of a white ghastly figure standing beside it. With a desperate effort, Joe summoned up all his energies to make once more for the door, and escape from that horrible place. | He reached it, his hands clasped its black panels : he drew it open, but ere he could pass through it, a hand seized his shoulder and held him firm. He turned a quick, fearful glance behind him, and as his eyes encountered the fearful mask of Jack—now luminated with phos- phorus—he uttered a shriek so loud, so agoniz- ing, that Jack released his hold. | Once more Joe sprang forward—his foot touched the threshold, he staggered tor a moment, and then fell on his face—dead ! CHAPTER XI. THE ATTEMPTED CAPTURE—JACK’S ESCAPE, Tue fate of Joe Filcher was a fearful end to a spree, for by such terms were the antics of Spring-heeled Jack called. That worthy had no idea, in the darkness which prevailed, that his practical joke , had deprived a fellow-creature of existence. His idea was that, terror-stricken, he had fainted ; and although Jack considered that what suffering he had caused the guilty wretch was a punishment well merited, he was not so callous- hearted as to refuse him assistance. CGOMLEVOCKS | Coim