Jack and His Seven Foes — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

JACK AND HIS SEVEN FOES. Panther, ‘and bring him on deck. Tl take the youngster.” ‘Trust you for taking the lightest job in hand,” snarled the Panther. When Jack returned to consciousness he could at first see things but dimly, a haze was before his eyes, and lis head ached as if it would burst. He tried to raise his hand, but it was fast. A few moments later he knew that he was lashed to the mizen-mast of the ship, and around him was a scene that nearly drove him mad with horror. Scattered on the deck were five men, dead, with gaping wounds and cruelly battered heads. These were the five scamen who were honest and true. At his feet, laid there in cruel mockery, was another dead man, s0 gashed and bruised and beaten, as to be scarcely recognisable, but that it was his dear father, from whom he had but a few hours parted s0 affectionately, he could not doubt. Yes, if was he. The cruel and cowardly fiends had done their worst with him. Noman could receive such wounds and live. Jack spoke not. The horror on him was too deep for words. His very soul bubbled and boiled with grief and fury. Then came thoughts of Willie—where was he? Not far away, for there was the deli- cate lad to the left, lying with ropes about him cutting into his delicate limbs, and cruel knots placed where they would give him the most pain. He was alive, and apparently un- wounded. Close to him was Bob Stubbles, with a terrible gash running across his fore- head and cheek, also bound hand and foot, but also living. “Ts this a dream of horror?” aked Jack, faintly. | “Tt’s all true, lad,” said the mate, bitterly. “But don’t lose heart, Jack,” said Willie, “they can only kill us at the worst.” “ T'll not lose heart,” said Jack, bit- terly. ‘“‘ Let them take my life inch by inch if they will, but you, Willie, poor boy, you are not fit to bear it—and oh! look here ! ” Despite his efforts the tears would | rain fast as he looked at his father’s \ | | 9 corpse, so mangled, so brutally treated. But yesterday living, so good, so strong and handsome, noble and generous, even to the meanest. . “ Ah, utter villainy,” he groaned. “My lad,” said Stubbles, with a choky utterance, “bear up. Don’t let these rats sce that they’ve hit home so hard.” “Where are they?” asked Jack, “ where are the dastards ?”’ “'They’ve been boozing down below,” rephed the mate, ‘cand seem to have drunk themselves into quiet.” “Oh, that I could free myself of these accursed bonds,’ said Jack, writhing furiously. “Tt’s no use, my lad,” said Stubbles, sorrowfully, “ they’ve done their work too well. And to think that I taught *em how to tie those knots. It makes me wish to dash my head against the deck and end it as far as I am consarned. They won’t slip in twenty years—only a knife could set us free.”’ “They are moving below,” said Willie. “The Swaggerer said he'd have his drink and come and end us.” “They are coming,” said Jack. “Willie, my brother, be strong, be brave.” : “JT will laugh at them,” said the boy, with a proud look on his almost girlish face. ‘And you, Stubbles. trust you.” “If I can only fasten my teeth in any of ’em,” growled the mate, “I'll I know I can hold on till they hack my head off.”’ | ‘ Quiet, then, dear friend and brother. They are coming up.” There was a shuffling of feet upon _the companion, some swearing and push- ing, and then they came up one by one, _ the Swaggerer foremost. His hair hung about his face, his eyes were bloodshot, and marks of the deadly _work he had been engaged in were all him now. He stood on the (CO) over his face. Great patches of red from head to foot—an awful picture of a man-monster. Behind him was the Panther, licking his cruel lips like a wild beast fresh from a feast of blood, and thirsting for another; then the rest, one by one, blood-stained ruffians every one. The Swaggerer was a changed man. There was nothing cringing about dec wih AMUCLIOOKS (C©)