Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 332 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

/ —— —— =>: | hooks, that appeared to be powerful springs. | and Jack didn’t get back last night. SoTIlhave | e a jump up in the air, came down on | to do the trading myself.” Hem the hooks, and threw a complete somerset, then made for the duke. With lofty leaps he came toward the old man who hastily leveled the remaining pistol, anc fired with a trembling hand, shouting for help | as he did so. The stranger uttered no sound, but made a | second Jeap in the air, and came down by the | chair, when he darted on the old man, and the | duke saw that the hands of the figure were arm- ed with the same long claws of which all the | | people who had hitherto seen the monster had | spoken. tin a moment it had clutched the helpless old nobleman by the shoulders, and though the duke, in the energy of his terror, struggled with a force that surprised himself, the monster dragged him out of the chair as if he had been a baby, and thence to the border of the river, Spring-Heel Jack. Mother Spring sneered. ‘Fine trade thowlt make of it. Why, lad, when Mathias was thy age he could take an old horse that had been at the plow all its life,and | But thou canst | whistle for ’im.” make a gorgio think ita colt. ne’er do that.” Then she looked back to the tent by which the other man was standing, and called out, in her shrill tones, cracked with age: ‘‘ Hey, Mathias, thou lazy hound, I want more wood, or the pot ‘ll ne’er be done.” The person addressed was an old man, with hair as gray as her own. His figure was bent, but had the remnants of great strength and activity. His shouldere were broad, his limbs long, and the decrepitude of age could not hide the trim outline of what bad once been the figure of an Apollo. His face was still handsome, in spite of the ragged gray | | v4 Jack shrugged his shoulders, ‘‘ And that’s for the sergeant to find out. I just took my cap and went out of the door, when the rest were looking another way, and when the roll comes to be ed, there won’t be none to hanswer the name of John Spring and they must The face of the elder Gypsy grew graver at once, as he asked: ‘‘ And dost mean thou’rt goin’ to desart, and | thee only two days in the sarvice? Lad, it win- | | | | where it caught him up and held him over the | beard, that seemed to have been left unkempt | tide, as if about to throw him in. The old duke struggled and shouted, in a | sible. voice that was growing weaker all the time, and the steps of men running were audible in the on purpose to make it as unattractive as pos- He was clad in rags, and his black eyes | glowed with anger, as he called back to the old | woman: garden, while Jarvis was heard shouting to the | rest of the servants to *‘ hurry, for the duke was being killed.” Then the monster seemed to realize it might be dangerous to stay where it was any longer, and threw the old duke down on the ground, on his face and down the side of his neck, that looked like stab of a knife. When the horrified Jarvis and his fellow-ser- vants came upon the scene, they found the old duke on the ground, but the monster had disappeared, and no one knew what had become bf it, CHAPTER IX. THE GYPSY CAMP, HAMPSTEAD HeaTH, to-day, would seem to be a place where mystery has but little chance to lurk, but fifty years ago the case was dif- ferent. Even to-day, when the flood of buildings has swept far outside of the original limits of the old city of London, and has made a wilder- ness of bricks and mortar that takes a full day’s journey to traverse it from one end to the other, go as straight as a man can, the Heath has been left open for the delectation of the people who ride donkeys and disport them- selves on Sundays and holidays. The ake after the mysterious assault on the duke of Norfolk, in his own garden, the city was all with the news that Spring-Heel Jack had been at his pranks again, and the po- licemen were scouring the town in search of in- formation that might lead to the apprehension of the person or persons who had contrived to outrage the dignity of the premier peer of the House of Lords. Such a thing had never been heard of before, and the indignation of the tem was propor- tionate to the enormity of the offense. The naturally flunkyish nature of the aver- age British shopkeeper was roused to the bot- tom of its soul; for who knew whether the atro- cious villain, that had assaulted the first noble- man of England, might not, if he were not dis- covered, lay his impious hands on royalty itself? And, let foreigners dream as they of the possible ublicanism of the average English citizen, he a wholesome reverence for the name and state of royalty and nobility, in the hope that he himself may, some day, attain toa small measure of the same ap et Out on Hampstead Heath, the monster, it was said, had made his first appearance, and there he had frightened women and children by the score, so to , though the number of his vic- tims had MA not yet reached a round dozen. It was on Hampstead Heath, the day after the news spread that the Duke of Norfolk had been attacked by Spring-Heel Jack, that a small camp of Gypsies, composed of two men and three women, with several children, had been pitched in a remote part. A donkey cart had been unloaded, and a little barrel-sha tent erected, in the ordinary Gypsy fashion, with a fire burning in the open air, over which swung a pot on its tripod, while an old woman, with gray hair and the elfish face of a witch, stirred the contents. In the eyes of the visitors that strayed that way these proba- bly consisted of all sorts of magic in ients, but were really the remains of chickens and a oung pig, which were missing, that morning, Frou the cottages of the people who resided in the neighborhood. As she was pet 5 Y away, one of the men came and s*ood beside her, asking: ‘¢ Well, Mother Spring, when will the pot be ready?” Mother Ss ring saluted him with a scowl. * When li tell °ee, and not afore, J Win- terbotham. Thou hast always a stomach for food, but no hands to get the dinner with.” *“Don’t be crusty, mother,” said the young Gypsy, not ill-naturedly. ‘‘I only asked be- cause there is a gorgio* coming to horses, _ * Actranger, not of Gypsy blood. ~ ' | by the side of the river, first inflicting a scratch | ee ee ee eee re ‘* Get thiné own sticks, Ghita; for if 1 come over there, [ll give thee what i get, in a way thou wouldn’t like.” The old woman favored him with a malevo- lent glance, but she had experienced castigation too often to openly rebel, and she set to work to gather sticks from the ground near her, where they had been lying all the time, she being too lazy to pick them up. Mathias, in the mean time, watched her, and when he saw that she was really at work, he came up to the fire and helped, in a way that showed his *‘ bark to be worse than his bite,” as the saying runs; for he helped his wife materi- ally with her labors. She did not give him any thanks for it, but returned to the stirring of the pot, as the old man ranged the sticks under the flame, till he asked, in a pause of his labor: “Where did Jack go?” The old woman waved her hand toward the distant smoke of the city. ‘‘Over yonner, ye may know. Jack’ll never be easy till the lobsters* gets ‘im again, and ng him what they gave many a gorgio before im. The boy’s allers venturesome, Mathias, and thou know’st that as well asI do. By the time ’e’s been gone, I mistroost we'll not see ’im in a , Old Mathias made no answer, for it seemed as if the words of his —s roused gloomy thoughts in his own breast, but he stood gazing into the fire, as if thinking of something, till both were startled by the voice of Jasper ‘Winterbotham calling out to them: ‘Ere cooms Jack now; and if ’e ain’t gone and took the bounty!” And presently over the heath, among the gorse-bushes, they both spied the tall figure of a soldier in his smart undress-suit, the flat cap on his head setting off his handsome face, and recog- nized in him the straying son, who had gone from the i ' nye serena yori London, on an @ ition for ging, ieving, or —— could be done for the profit of the and, Jack Spring came up, looking handsome and as well as ever, and his first words to his mother were, as he smelt the savory emanation from the pot on the fire: ‘‘*Flloa, mother, ’m as ’ungry as a wolf this mornin’. Give us somethin’ out of the pot, ina *urry, and be ’anged to thee.” The old woman did not seem to be offended by the rude salutation, for she actually smiled as she looked at him, and rose with alacrity to obey his request, while the other Gypsies gather- ed round his handsome figure, as if they all admired him, strongest and bravest of their band, beyond dispute. The old man called Mathias was the only one that did not seem to be pleased, for he made no motion to welcome the new-comer, and when the rest had spoken to Jack, observed dryly: ‘¢ And so thow’rt a lobster again.” Jack grinned. ** Ay, ay, as much as I choose; no more, fey- ther. I know what to do, and when to do it, as well as the next man. I took a fancy to soger again for a while; but when I want to get out, I can do it as well as the next. And where dost think I was last night? Why, in the Tower, of all places in the world. And, feyther, there’s a ’eap of fun a-goin’, for the Romany, and they want to take it. Who dost think went to the Tower t’other night, and raised sich a ga Hy the guard ’ad to turn out to ketch him. Why, Spring~Eel Jack, to be sure. Hey! what fools those sae ape are!” And the tall G threw back his shoulders and roared with laughter, while the other mem- seemed to be amused at what he had said, bers of the band ‘* And ’ow coomst thou ’ere to-day?” asked Mathias, when he had allowed a smile to fade from his face. ‘‘ Do they let recruits go out as free as all that?” * “ Lobsters "’ is the cant word for soldiers in Eng- jand, from their red coats, ‘ [ | | not do. I was a soger once, myself, and I tell ‘ee it winnot do. Thou mun go back to the bar- ricks, and be quick about it.’ Jack did not seem to be much troubled, for he continued his meal, which he had taken from the pot as soon as he came, with perfect tran- quillity. “ Ay, ay, fe ther,” he said. ‘‘Tll not get to the triangles, but an I tell ’ee ’oo ’tweere that listed me, thou’lt be s’prised.” **°Oo. was it, lad?” asked Mathias, "Oo but the gorgio heir, feyther—and—say —e’s a better man than I gave ’im credit for; and ’e can ’andle ’is ’ands like a good ‘un; so ’e can, now. Noll’s wrang about him, and so ’e’ll find out some day, when ‘tis too late, Tell ’ee the man can fight. Gave me a smack o’ the’ chops, laid me flat, and I ain’t no fool, nuther, as thou knows, feyther.” The old man favored his son with a malig- nant glance as he said: ‘*So much the worse for ’im, then.” CHAPTER X. THE RECRUIT. GEORGE HOWARD had gone on drill as usual, on the same morning when Spring visited his family, and being incommand of his company, in the absence of his captain, he received the re- rt of his sergeant that the Gypsy recruit had aken his departure without leave, though the sergeant did not think he had exactly desert- The young officer was angry at hearing the report, and gave orders that, as soon as the Gypsy returned, he should be put into the guard- room and punished. Having given the order, he forgot the matter, till it was brought back to his memory, in the evening, by the same sergeant, He gates « that the recruit had come back, and resisted ar- rest, so that they had to knock him down with the butt-end of a musket, and that he was in irons in the d-room, where he had sent for his commanding officer, and asked if he would not come and speak to him. George hesitated about going; but finally, as he was naturally kind-hearted, went to the panos where the prisoners were confined, and ound Jack Spring lying in the dark cell, his head tied up in a b y bandage, his hands and feet ironed whiny | while his uniform was torn and spotted with ood. As soon as he saw the young officer, he be- n: ‘* Well, your honor, this ain’t the way to treat a soger, is it? I didn’t ‘list for no sich treat- ment.” ‘‘Tt’s what you deserve for absence without leave,” said Howard, sternly; for he saw that the man was drunk still, and insolent in de- meanor. ‘‘I told you that the oa ome would bring you to your Reores § if you tried any of your tricks onhim. Whatdid you want to see me for?’ The G stared up at him, with a curious glance, half-cunning, half-stu id. ‘*T wanted to see if your honor wouldn’t let me off punishment, this time; if I promised to do well for the future. Your honor recruited me, and it won’t do your honor no credit, if your man goes to the triangles, the first day af- ter ’e joins.” Howard frowned. ‘You're a worthless, impudent dog ; and if you get a good dose of the cat, in the morning, it will teach you to keep your insolent tongue to yourself,” he said. ‘‘I shall not interfere with your punishment.” He was turning away from him, when the Gypsy called out earnestly: ‘Your honor will be sorry, if I don’t get off from the triangles. Mark’ee that, now, dom oy pamens, 4 oward paid no further attention to him, but went off and paid a visit to the Constable of the Tower in his quarters. General Reid had always been glad to see him, and especially when the young officer would play him a game of chess; for Reid, like most old Indian officers, was passionately fond of an game, in which the native Hindoos are so expert. ge had never been much of a player till he entered the Tower, and saw Rose Reid; from which date he had developed a t love for the game, and a corresponding Bags saved for the paciets of an old officer, whom, when he first saw him, he had thought one of the stiffest old martinets he had ever met. , Since the general had spoken to him so de- cidedly on the subject his daughter, the oung man had not dared to think o to ae her, in ience to orders; but Ese Soe general actually asked him ‘‘ why he did not Ss) ICO e€om C €O ~~