Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

ere Aa Tn ES OO i a OES fo I Gk Ne cece Glidil) aire we eer 4 fe, Pc ene enerer crv een er SS, TS TESS SP PE ———————— 108 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. hh Tc cc ee a | This passage, it must be understood, was in profound darkness, but yet, from having been so long in it, assisted, perhaps, by some pecuharity of vision, he was enabled to see dimly about him. He crawled stealthily and slowly to the right along the passage. “Oh!” he said, “if I only had a light. I should think it as easy as possible then. But its no good wishing for what I can’t have, so I must do the best I can without it.” Just as he spoke these words he reached the end of the passage. i He moved his hands carefully over the smooth surface in the hope of" finding a door, but nothing save the cold smooth stoues met his touch. ‘That's the end of the passage, I suppose, and getting through that wall would be quite out of the question.” So he thought. But he never made a greater mistake in his life. Ob! if some friendly power had whispered in his ear the intelligence that if he had set to work upon that wall, and made a breach in it, 1t would have taken him into the cell beneath Wild’s house, in which she whom he loved more than life itself was deposited, how quickly and energetically he would have set about it! But there was nothing to tell him this. He was quite ignorant of what part of the prison he was confined, and whether the wall before him was in the north, cast, south, or west portion of it. It was in the eastern portion. Little did he think, as he stood there, passing his hands over the stonework, that a distance of a few inches only intervened between him and Edgworth Bess. But it often happens iv life that when we are nearest the object we most desire we know it not. Convinced that there was no egress in that direction, Jack Sheppard turned and retraced his steps along the passage until he reached the door of his own cell. Then he knew that about forty paces onwards would bring him to the strong, 1ron-bound door at the entrance of the passage. Stepping with as much care as possible, on he went. When the jailers had conveyed him to the dungeon he had taken particular notice of the different objects in his route. He thought then such attention would not be thrown away, and the result proved that he was right. He remembered, then, that when he passed the corridor door he had descended a short flight of steps. Cousequently he would have these to ascend. This made him so cautious in his progress. He was afraid he should come upon them unexpectedly and fall, which might, perhaps, not only give the alarm, but also do him so much injury as to incapacitate him from fully achieving his escape. He lifted his feet only the least bit in the world, and slid them over the stones. At last his toe struck against the bottom step. Ho was all right now, and he ascended the little flight of steps rapidly and easily. They were five in number. Upon reaching the top one he put out bis hand and touclicd the door. ** { wonder now,” he thought, as the idea occurred to Him, ‘“‘ I wonder, now, whether there is anyone the other side of the door? If there i9 it will be awkward—very awkward indeed! I will listen.” IIe stooped, and placed his ear close to the panel. At first all was silent, and he was about to rise, under the conviction that there was no one on the other side, when a faint sound, like the shutting of a door, reached his ears. Ife again put his ear to the panel. Then he heard distinctly a heavy tread, which sounded disinally in that tomb-like place. It was the footsteps of one person only. The tramp was measured and regular, as that of a persou well acquainted with the place. Nearer and nearer it came. Evidently in the direction of the door. Jack retreated down the steps. Then, as his eyes were on a leve)] with the flooring of the passage beyond, he could see what appeared to him a bright line of light underneath the doorway. Through the monstrous keyhole, too, the light came in a long pencil, and madea small, bright spot on the stones. “Some one is coming through the door, I think. Luckily it is only one person, so it may after all turn out a favourable circumstance for me, and yet there may be others within hearing. Never mind, I must risk that. Ab! he comes.” The heavy footsteps, which during the last few seconds had become very audible, paused at the door, and then followed the rattling of the key in the lock. **T will crouch down here at the bottom of the steps,” thought Jack, and he suited the action to the word. *“ He won't be looking down at his feet, and he will fall over me as sure as fate; and once down I shall have him at my mercy.” This was a good idea of Jack’s, and one that had every chance of success. Hardly, however, had he disposed himself in the posi- tion which he thought would be most effective, than the fastenings having been undone, the door was thrown wide open on its hinges. Jack was so placed that he could without moving see who it was that thus approached. By his dress he was evidently a turnkey. In his right hand he held the bunch of keys which he had just used to open the door. In the other was a lantern, which to Jack seemed to emit an unusually brilhant light. But that was only a little optical delusion caused by his having been so long in darkness. He was almost tempted to rise, for he naturally fell into the mistake that the turnkey would be sure to see him— that, indeed, he could not fail to do so. Luckily, however, he remained where he was. In the most careless manner imaginable, the man came through the doorway. Surely fortune befriended Jack. The man turned, and closed the door behind him. The fear of an alarm being given was now at an end. Not paying any attention to where he was going, for the man had so often traversed the passage he could have done it blindfold, he came down the steps. That he should meet with auything at the bottom in the shape of an obstruction never once occurred to him. ‘The consequence was just what Jack had expected. THe did not trust, though, to the man falling over him, but just as he put his right foot on the bottom stair he caught hold of his leg near the ankle, and by a vigorous snatch brought him at once to the ground. The man uttered a yell of fright, and then his head reached the hard flagstones with a terrible crash. Then all was still. The lantern had rolled from his grasp, but was not ex- cinguisned. ack rose instantly and took possession of it. Then, observing that the man lay without speech or motion, he ventured to appreach and examine him. He was either insensible or dead, which of the two it was he could not determine, nor did he take much trouble to do so. He was powerless to do any mischief, and that was all he cared for. ** Its a settler, I think,” be said, as he saw the blood oozing slowly from a cut in the turnkey’s temple. “I hope not,” he said ; ‘‘ but I must either have done what I dids or else suffered myself to be again made prisoner.” CHAPTER LXXIV. JACK SHEPPARD'S ESCAPE IS DISCOVERED, AND THE ALARM-BELL TOLLED.—THE GOVERNOR'S APARTMENTS AND THE WINDING STAIRCASE. THIS was so self evident a proposition that it did not admit of a moment’s dispute, and so Jack dismissed the affair altogether from his mind, looking upon it as a necessary evil. . The circumstance of the jailer coming to pay a visit to the cells, looked at first sight rather an unfavourable one, but it turned out to be quite the reverse. At any rate, it was an event that had not at all entered into Jack’s calculations, but he seized upon it with avidity, and resolved to turn it to the utmost advan- tage. a carne ete mn ne cmnseetensmn itiemameastien sofia peconestatll GOnlGaOokSneo UC) mn =)