Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

j eee ge 112 On this occasion Jonathan’s business was of a very ordi- nary and every day kind indeed. The fact was he wanted something to eat. Wis household was carried on under rather strange prineiples, and whenever he took a meal there was always one eating-house where he went to eat it. This eating-house was in Giltspur-street, facing the east end of St. Sepulohre’s-ehurch, and was kept by a creature of his. Towards it he now made his way. Many iieurs had elapsed since he had taken any food, and now he felt hun- self siek and faint for want of sustenance. Tho hour was an early one, and few people were in the streets ; still fewer shops were open. But Wild knew his wishes were always attended to with the utmost alaerity, let him appear at what hour he would. Ile found a man taking down the shutters. He seemed only partially awake, and he stopped in his work every now and then and yawned in sueh a frightful manner that his head seemed in imminent danger of falling off. But it is hardly worth while to be so minute as to fol- low Wild into the eating-house, when we have so many stirring and important events pressing npon us for speedy reeital. Let it suffiee to say, that having eaten enough to satisfy a small regiment, he, in something less than an hour, reaehed the door of hig own house again. As he erossed the street, he turned his head and looked up at the ehureh ciock. It was a few minutes past seven. “TY will go and have three hours’ rest,” he said. “I feel badly in want of it. Then I shall be able to attend to business in my office properly. I have sadly neglected it of late, but thank the fates things will go on a little smoother now.” What a mistake. But we will not overrun our story, but merely deseribe events in the order in which they happened. In pursuanee, then, of. his expressed intention, Jonathan made his way to the bed-room on the second floor, and flinging himself upon the bed, dressed as he was, fell into a profound slumber. Then he moved and got his neek bent in some odd way, and began to snore in a frightful manner. The door was then cautiously pushed open, and a head thrust in. Satisfied apparently that he might safely venture to enter, Mr. Ebenezer Snoxall, the apotheeary, did so. ‘** Ha!” he said, in a whisper, as he reached the side of the bed. ‘* He’s asleep now, and no mistake. I had better take the opportunity of dressing his wound, or there will be no bearing him when he awakes. What a hor- rible noise. I'll sluift his head a little, and see if that will stop it. Oh! ah! yes. That’s it. Capital!” onathan’s nasal eoneert ceased. The apotheeary now, with trembling hands and gentle touch, set about the very unpleasant task he had to per- form. ~ But Jonathan’s sleep was too profound for it to arouse him, though he several times shouted and moved about uneasily, to the great terror of the man of physie. ‘*'That’s over,” he said, at last; “and now, Jonathan Wild, you can sleep as long as you like.” He glided from the room like a phantom. _ When Wild threw himself upon the bed and fell asleep, it was with the mental resolution to awake in three hours’ time. It was Just striking ten when he opened his eyes. He felt wonderfully better than he had for some time. His hearty meal, sound sleep, and careful dressing of his wound had all conspired to produee this effeet. fle rolled off the bed, adjusted his clothes a little, and then slunk down stairs with the stealthy tread of a cat. He was in hopes, by coming unexpeetedly, to cateh some one “on the hop,” as he ealled it, by which expres- sion he meant doing or saying something whieh he would not be desired to witness. Bat his raseally erew were too wide awake to be up to anything just then. They every moment expeeted to see him make his appearance. Seareely had Jonathan seated himself at the desk than Wilkinson tapped at the door, and just showed the end of his nose. fA visitor, Mr. Wild.” Pe re Pe BLUESKIN : a ca S - ——_— Pas EEA, eS owe SEs A ROMANCE. *€ Come in.” © Yes, Mr. Wild,” Wilkinson did not know whether to feel pleased or not, but he obeyed. © Who is it ?”’ **T don’t know, sir. He’s an old man, and seems to be im very great distress about something. He has been here a great many times, and says his business with you is of the utmost importance. ‘* Is he well dressed ? ”’ ** Not very, Mr. Wild.” ** Never mind, I will see him.” Wilkinson, as the Amerieans, in their peculiar vernacu- lar, would have said, ‘“‘ made tracks ”’ for the door. ** Stop!” ened Wild. Ife hid his hand on the knob of the door, but he stopped at onee. ** Wilkinson, come here.” ‘Yes, Mr. Wild,” he rephed. He dreaded this pacifie demeanour on the part of his employer boded him no good. His conscience, too, aceused him, for he had been mixing himself up in some little affairs which, if they came to Jonathan’s knowledge, would assuredly put his head in the halter. Trembling, then, in every limb, and white as ashes, he approached the railings in front of the desk at which Wild was seated. ¢ Wirkinson ! ” ‘Tam here, Mr. Wild.” ** You don’t seem very well.” Me, sir? Why—a—yes—a—that is to say” ** And confused! But don’t be afraid, Wilkinson. I believe you are faithful to me, and I don’t want to be unjust.” ‘No!” groaned Wilkinson, and that was all he could say. ‘ You gave me some very important news about the ruined abbey, and, what is more, the information turned out to be perfectly eorreet.”’ Yes, Mr. Wild,’ said Wilkinson, brightening up a little, and losing much of his dread. ‘*T suceeeded in that important business, which I shouldn’t have done so easily if it had not been for you.” “Oh! Mr. Wild,’ exelaimed Wilkinson, with a hypo- critical whine.” ** So, to reward you, and eneourage you to tell me any- thing else you may think I should lke to know, there’s a twenty pound note, Wilkinson, Put it in your pocket, and say no more about it.” Oh! Mr. Wild,” gasped Wilkinson, as he clutched the crisp bit of paper. ‘‘Ol! Mr. Wild, you are too good !” “The intelligenee was important. Let it be an en- eouragertoyou. Hold your row!” “Yes, sir.” ‘** Where’s this old man you spoke of p”? “Waiting in No. 2, sir.” Very well. another word.” Wilkinson elosed the door. “Oh! I’m blowed!” he muttered, and he looked at the note which had been given him, and found it genuine. “ Jobnny’s grateful. The blessed world will eome to an end after this, and no mistake. What a fool I was to be a frightening myself like that about nothink at all.” He opened the door of the little waiting-room which was called No. 2. Seated in an arm-chair by the fire-place, his faee buried in his hands, and wearing every appearance of the utmost sorrow, was an old man. What eould he want with Jonathan Wild P Bring him in here at once, and don’t say CHAPTER LXXYVII. RETURNS TO THE LONELY CHAMBER AT THE TOP OF THE NORTH TURRET OF THE RUINED ABBEY. NotiinG would please us better than to at once answer the question, bat our attention cannot any longer be diverted from some other events replete with interest. The reader must exercise that most commendable of all virtues, patience. But we promise to keep him no longer than we cap help EO DOO C SS} o(CO) Ss ~erategemns— CR, Z,