Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

. ' —_—_ «-—" | SPRING-HEEL'D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. a a terror he turned to retreat down the trap, when our hero jumped down and seized him by the arm, saying— i - . Ae Time’s up; come!” Wirth the counterpane belonging to old deaf rr.’ ~) - *€ Hold !” | Like his companion, his brutish nature was cowed on the instant by the sight of that face and form, and stood trembling in the grasp of our hero. ‘* No, you don’t,” said Jack ; my boy.” “ Wa—wa—wanted ?” stammered the fellow. “Yes; you've been long enough at this game. ‘you're wanted, And Jack led him unresistingly across the roof to the coping-stone in front of the house. “Look there,” said Jack, pointingover. ‘Do you see the top of those hats glistening in the moonlight ? They are policemen ; you're a thief. They are waiting for you.” Dy “Oh!” and the man drew a long breath of relief. ‘* Then it’s not you who wants me ?” * Not yet.” “Thank God !” cried Jerry. If ever man uttered a fervent exclamation, Jerry the burglar did then. ‘No, you are too bad for me. you one chance of escape.” ** What 1s it ?” “Never steal more, and I will let you go. Promise me that,” said Jack. cook, wills?” : HE STOR “ But can I believe you ?”’ “You can.” “Beware you do not deceive yourseif, for you cannot deceiveme. Attempt to commit another robbery, and you will find me at your side.” —“*T swear it, I never will!” gasped Jerry. “Enough; I'll trust you this once. Now, begone.” He removed his hand. Jerry required no second bidding. He darted away over the housetops with the speed of an antelope, the fear of capture lending wings to his flight. Jack watched him for some moments, when the sound of voices aroused him to the fact that the police were making their way to the roof, and having no desire to be seen by them, Jack stepped along the tiles of the adjoining houses, and finally sprang into a garden at the rear of a house some short distance from the scene of the robbery. But I will give CHAPTER XXX. MISS FRUMP SEEKS A HUSBAND, AND MEETS A REPULSE, Duppy’s bed wrapped around her, the old maid reached her own room, where she locked herself in, and then, with an hysterical sob, sank down upon the floor. a Poor lady, her garrulous nature had brought about all she had suffered, but still she did not deserve it. ° ~ She had certainly made herself at times very obnoxious to her neighbours by her fussy ways and the bitter spirit she often exhibited against those who had not strictly conformed to her ideas of morality. 3 SE es ee -t—i—S— SUE EEE EES eames A A ENO OO LOE LE DION rr BI EN OO ILI a a NR ~~ — ee SSS SS SST b=-eestupr-wes-ae-wem oor —-- 85 In her eyes the poor deluded girl was a base designing hussy, and deserved to be badgered and bated, and held up to scorn and loathing, rather than receive pity. She had no sympathy for those who had strayed, either from inclination or a too trusting heart, from the paths of recti- tude and honour. But then Miss Frump was one of those per- sonages whom man had looked upon but coldly. She had never been in love, from the mere fact that her over-prudish and repelling nature had rather kept away than lured lovers to her side. On all sides she was slighted, for her heart never beat in unison with another. She was too cold ; the fault was nature’s perhaps, and nct her own. : Had she been a wife and a mother, doubtless she would have been very different in her feelings, but she was neither, and as years passed over her head, and time left its traces on her brow, the cold, unimpulsive heart of her girlhood grew harder and harder, for her bosom seemed only to contain bitterness and gall. And so she was disliked by all and her society shunned. She felt she was disliked, and therefore she turned upon others at every chance she could get. Poor Baker had given her one, and now, out of revenge for her bittérness on that occasion, his friends had turned the tables upon herself, and bitterly did she feel it. She sat rocking herself to and fro upon the floor, while the remarks of those who had been summoned from their beds in the dead of the night came with no very flattering sentiments to her ears. | | Of course she knew that she was not guilty of that which was imputed to her, but who would believe it ? ‘* None.” If she had no real enemies, she certainly had no real friends. She heard not one voice raised in her favour. But she heard Tom Bedford saying in a very loud tone that poor Duppy was not so much to blame, for Miss Frump never would let the poor old man alone. Oh! if she could but have reached the speaker’s face with her nails—if she could but have twined her fingers in his hair—her wounded heart might have found some relief; but she could not—-dared not leave her room to give him the length of her tongue, and so she wrung her hands together, and sobbed violently. After a time all was still; the house was deserted by all save herself and Duppy. Then she rose from her crouching position on the floor. She had made up her mind what to do. She went to her drawers and took out fresh attire, her own being below, and robed herself. Her wig of course she could not put on, that being with her clothes below. But she put on a cap, looked at herself in the slass, and turned with a determined step to the door. ‘‘T will do it now,” she said. ‘‘I will not wait till the morning, lest my courage fail me. He must share with me the disgrace—he shall help me to redeem my character.”