Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

SPRING-HEEL D JACK: so unearthly that the hair of the libertine rose sradually upon his head till it stood upright ; and trembling in every limb, the book fell from beneath his hand to the floor again, awaking the echoes of the hollow church which reverberated from pillar to pillar like a roll of thunder. Appalled, Richard Clavering clung to the rail- ings of the altar for support, while with affrighted gaze his eyes rested upon the figure before him. - We have said before that Richard was not naturally a superstitious man, but at this mo- ment he fairly believed that a spectre had risen from its grave to confront him. So powerful were the emotions that had taken possession of his heart, that he reeled like a drunken man, and but for the rail to which he clung he must have fallen. And thus he stood glaring upon the tall figure in that pale blue light, who, with extended arm, pointed reprovingly at him. The silence, too, which again reigned was awful in its intensity. The guilty man would have given worlds had it been broken. ‘But not a single sound emanated from the lips of the apparition now. ° | It stood erect, with extended finger pointed at him, the pale blue light playing upon its hideous face and tall cloaked form. Richard strove to speak. He could not. His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. The lips of the libertine became parched and dry, and his eyeballs appeared as if they would start from their sockets. He tried to close his eyes to shut out the terrible vision, but he could not. He made an effort to flee, but terror had chained him to the spot. | Richard Clavering was powerless now—power- less as a new-born babe. Gradually his limbs sank beneath him, a dizziness stole over his brain, a film crossed his eyes, and still clutching at the railing, he dropped all of a heap on the cushion where he had that morning knelt and perjured his already blackened soul. Then the figure drew nearer to him, with a soft, gliding step, which emitted no sound, and paused on the spot where the moonlight, stream- ing through a blood-red pane of glass, made him look even more hideous than before. A minute it stood there, and then, in a hollow voice, it exclaimed— “Man of evil passions, must the house of God be polluted by thy unholy presence ?—the re- cords of the holiest of ties severed by thy guilty hand? Must that altar, dedicated to the worship of the Most High, be debased by contact with thy wicked form? No! Follow me!” The figure took a step nearer, and laid his hand upon the arm of the crouching man. With a ery of horror and despair, Richard sprang to his feet. : Never for a moment had it struck him that the being before him was human. In his guilty heart he felt convinced that it was some phantom which hed risen to upbraid him. ‘Follow or tremble!’ said the figure again, THE TERROR OF LONDON. 79 in a tone that caused the blood of Richard to curdle. | The guilty man felt himself powerless to resist the mandate. Spite of his endeavours to refuse, he felt himself drawn as if by some magnetic influence towards the cloaked figure, which beckoned him from the altar along the centre ‘aisle of the moonlit church. CHAPTER XXVIII. RICHARD FINDS HIMSELF PLACED IN A VERY STRANGE POSITION, TRRESISTIBLY along the aisle of the sacred edifice Richard Clavering followed the strange figure. It was with a tottering gait he did so, and ever and anon he was compelled to place his hand on the top of the pews on either side to support himself. It was somewhat strange that he did not recognise in the tall cloaked figure before him the form of his quondam friend, Spring-heel’d Jack. But he did not; never did that personage once occur to his memory. The awe with which that silent church had inspired him, the great strain upon his nerves, and the guilty work in which he was engaged, had rendered him forgetful of the man who had been greatly instrumentalin forcing him to do an act of justice to a deceived and too willing woman. Had the unexpected meeting taken place in any other spot than where it did, doubtless he would have resisted the command of this strange confronter, but here he felt that he was wholly powerless to resist the mandate, and he staggered on after him as he preceded his trembling steps along the church. In the centre of the aisle Jack paused, i 1rned sharply, and pointed to a large opening in the oor. “ Descend!” he said, in a hollow, unearthly voice. Richard started back from the black orifice, on the verge of which he stood. “ Descend !”’ repeated Jack. Richard glared fearfully around him. “Descend, or you will repent it!” said Jack. Coward! do you fear the dark ?” “In God’s name, who, and what are you?” cried Richard. “Take not that namein vain. Base mortal, dare you profane that name, and know that sacrilege brought you hither? Come—come!” “ Oh ! where—where ?” “There!” Jack again pointed to the opening in the church floor. ‘Heavens! that leads to the vaults!”’ shud- dered the libertine. ; “ Aye! to the homes of the dead!” “Mercy! ‘I cannot!” “= “ You shall!” “No! no!” ‘* Follow me, or beware !” 2 - ‘*T dare not.” “You dare not refuse my commands,” “ Are you mortal ?” Jack had averted his face from the other’s gaze, | JOO I <Sicom (EO) uNKe v =" ? , ‘