Jack and His Seven Foes — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

38 _ And now they were severed. The boy lay dead, and the old man, bereft of his wits, sat beside him “ babbling like a child.”’ The man sat for many weary hours beside the boy. The band of murderers disappeared in the distance, the sun passed the mid heavens, and went down westward; birds flew overhead, various animals galloped by. The old man rarely moved, but some- times his eyes would rest upon the face of the boy with a puzzled look, and he would murmur— ‘“‘He sleeps long. He’s tired out, poor fellow.” Lightly the wind played with the boy’s curly brown locks, and the beauty that comes to allin death was upon him. Oh, pitiful sight ! Only a few hours ago so full of hope and life and strength, and now only a beautiful form of clay. But woe to the murderers ! The image of that quiet face shall haunt them, one and all, until their turn comes. In their waking hours, and in their dreams, the spirit of the boy thus rashly slain shall visit them. The sun was near the horizon, and the shadows lay long upon the plain, when two waytarers came upon the bitter scene. Now, indeed, J ack and Jacob Sturmby had come upon the trail of their foes to find this record of their evil-doing by the way. ‘‘Lord save us!” ejaculated Jacob Sturmby. ‘Look here!” They paused, and as Jack’s sad eyes rested upon the old man, he looked up and smiled. “1 thought you were dead,’’ he said, “and then somebody said you were asleep, but now you've come back to me.’ “What are you talking about?” asked Jacob Sturmby. ‘‘ We’ve never seen you before.”’ “‘ Hush !’’ interposed Jack. ‘ Look at the poor fellow’s eyes. Don’t you see that he’s lost his wits? Who is it lying dead beside him ?”’ “His son, I should say,” said Jacob Sturmby, softly. “The story is plain to me,” said | Jack. ID I ee en nn ncn nn nnn ee ee nS Jack. JACK AND HIS SEVEN FOES. ‘Foul play has robbed him of his son. perhaps he 1s not dead.”’ “He is dead, Master Jack, enough.” “Then, if the old man will come, I'll lead him on a little way. You won’t mind digging a grave for ee poor fellow.” “T wish I could do him a kinder thing,” replied Jacob. ‘Go forward, and I’ll lay him to rest as tenderly as Id put my own child—if I had one—to sleep.”’ Jack beckoned to the old man. “Shall we go on?” he said. “< Aye, surely,” was the cheery reply. “Old Ben’s ready. We have hada long rest, and ought to keep on all right.” “We will walk slowly at first,’ said Jack, “as I think we might perhaps find gold hereabouts.” “You had always a keen eye,” said old Ben, as we must henceforth call him; “and yet, with a puzzled look, “ your eyes seem to me to be changed. They used to be brown, and now they are blue: and—and you have grown taller.” “We all change with time,” “ Poor old man! he thinks that I am his son.” ‘There’s a width about the shoulders, too,” said old Ben, with his hand pressed to his forehead, “that wasn't there when they told us to move on from the Findwell Field. What a rough lot they were! They could have given you and me a corner to rest in, and missed nothing.” The sun was down now, and the cold grey light of evening was in the sky. The sad twilight threw a halo around all things on the plain, and it gave to the old man’s face a weird, unearthly look. “See here,” he said, holding up his hand. “I’m puzzled—I mix up things. There were six of them that came out of sure Poor boy! look at him. But said the earth, and you lay down dead. No, ~ it wasn’t you—it was—”’ He paused again, and looked about him as if in search of something. Jack took him by the arm, and led him on. “We'll keep going,” he said, ‘* though it be slowly.” ‘ ae yes, keep gong, muttered >B Ben - 6 but where’s the ial on it?” (C Onnicls NOO/KS CO