Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

SPRING-HEEL D JACK: TIE TERROR OF LONDON. 3D ——__—s —_—————— What can you, a stranger, have to say to, me? Nothing that I can hear.” “Thave. Listen. From the first moment I saw you my heart beat with a strange sensation towards you. Then you were habited in your fairy garb, and your natural beauty enhanced by the appliances of the costumier’s art—never did I see a being so beautiful as you! Your loveli- ness had enchained my heart—made it your captive! From that moment I resolved to throw aside all distinction of position, rank, and for- tune, and strive to win the love of her who had already won mine. The curtain fell on the fairy group, and I hurried to the stage-door to await your coming. JI recognised you in an instant, for the promptings of 1 my breast pointed out, thouch so changed in garb, the woman I sought ! “That beauty I had so admired on the stage was still retained when off the boards, and if anything, my heart yearned more str ongly to- wards you ‘than ever !”” “‘ Pray let me pass!” cried the girl. “Nay, hear me to the end,” “he continued. “IT love you—would take you from this life, which I know is distasteful to you—would sur- round you with wealth and splendour, study your every wish, and make you the envy of thousands. This will Ido. N ow, will you be mine ?” “ Dare I believe you?” “ You_may.” “You love me ?”’ -“T do,” “A stranger, whom you know not even by name—a poor ‘eirl whom poverty has driven to seek a livelihood by a calling which merits the jeers and contempt of half the world.” ~ Byven so; for I heed not that,” he replied, taking her hand in his own, and looking into her pale face. “And you would rescue me from this life— place me in a home of splendour and plenty ¢” “T would.” © And what return do you ask for this ?” she said, slowly and pointedly, fixing her liquid eye upon his face with a penetrating and inquiring glance. “ What return can I ask ?” he said. “ Ay, what?” she replied. “ Your love.” “My love?” cc Yes. > b “* My heart 2” “ Even so.’ “ And my hand?” The libertine did not reply. ‘Speak, man !.” she said, imperiously. you seek to make me your wife?” “Yes—yes ; that is—but” “But what?” she er ied, tearing her hand from his hold, and drawing herself proudly up before him, her eyes flashing with an indignant tire, and her pale face suffused with a blush of shame. ‘My dear!” “Speak, and speak truly. Do you pursue me with the desire to make me a happy, honourable wife, or only a libertine’s mistress?” she cried almost fur iously. c¢ Do ‘The man’s features underwent a perceptible ~ change as she spoke, and his tones were low and stammering as he said— = “ You do not understand—you’’ ‘“‘I do understand you. The motives which brought you to persecute me night after night on my way from the theatre to my home—I do understand you, sir. But now understand me. I know the calling I pursue is looked upon as one which holds among its votaries only the lost and fallen of the female sex—poor girls who can be induced to purchase existence and splen- dour at the price of honour. You are one who believe us all such, but you are mistaken. All are not fallen ; all are not purchased by golden promises, or caught by gilded baits. “Stand aside and let me pass ; I can read your hopes and desires in your face. , You have mistaken the poor ballet girl, who scorns your offers, and spurns, with ‘the contempt they deserve, your discusting promises ! ye ce My charmer!’ ‘* Begone, sir, and leave me to pursue my way in peace to my poor bat honourable home,” she said, thrusting him contemptuously aside, and passing on witb quick steps. ““ Nay, listen but a moment!” he exclaimed. “J have alr eacly listened too long.” “You refuse an offer thousands would be proud to accept,” he continued, walking on by her side. “T scorn an offer which every honourable, right-minded woman would look upon with loathing and disgust!” she replied. “ You are mad aed ‘“* T am true.’ “ The life you now lead cannot last for ever,’ he said. ‘* Youth and beauty soon fade, Rg then, what lies before you but the poorhouse ? ' “The knowledge that I did not sell happiness, fame—all for a libertine’s gold !” “And your mother —have you no care for her? Would you see her starve or die in a workhouse, when you might administer to her every want, and smooth the declining hours of her existence with all those comforts wealth would bring?” he said, looking with a sidelong olance, to see the etiect of his words. « Do you think she would purchase comfort at the price of her daughter’s shame ?” asked the girl, in a pained tone. «She need not know it.” “ Need not?” “ No; you could tell her you were wedded,” he sald. ee add lies to my other sins ?” hey would be excusable in such a case,’ said the libertine. “ Think you my looks—my wor us would not betray the fearful truth? Oh, man! man! how are you fallen!” she said, sadly, and increasing her speed. “ Oh, girl! how foolish you must be,” he sald, “todo battle with a life of poverty, because the world says we shall not follow the bent of our inclinations. ‘Those who would condemn the loudest, would the soonest be guilty of that which they blame in others. But what would be the opinions of others to you? Would you lose friends? No, for wealth w rould make them for you tenfold. Gold will hide a thousand sins, Eomichbook —— en CELE LDA LLC LLL LL ELC A A ’ Om —— «<r ee es ee OO Oe A