Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 117: what you’re looking at

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

Beene: = SP eet EEE Ey ee oe Se eee Oe ae Pa 4. wt” BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. CHAPTER LXXVITI. BLUESKIN ESCAPES BUT FROM ONE PERIL TO FALL INTO ANOTHER. AND now, from the shadowy sides of the smail open | you space, upon the borders of which Blueskin had fallen, there emerged several dusky forms. With slow, stealthy steps, and as though animated by one impulse, they made their way to the centre of the enclosure. As they reached it, and stood there in a denst, silent throng, the moonbeanis revealed their garb and features. Almost without exception they were attired as tarm- house labourers, only there was an air and manner about them which showed they were not those peaceful people. The large slouching felt hats which they wore upon their heads concealed a great portion of their features, but what could be seen was forbidding enough. Each man carried a musket. They looked anxiously around them, whilst some assumed listening attitudes. “All is well, I fancy,” said one, in hoarse, guttural accents. “I can hear nothing. I think I had him.” What was it ?”’ *T know not. I have put an end to him, though. {ft was some one sneaking through the underwood, and who would do that but a spy ?”’ “That's right enough,” said another. ‘ But why don’t sa p 29 you go and see what it 1s! “Why don’t you ?”’ “Oh! you fired the gun, didn’t you? Goand see your- self. . Ha! look there. Hark! Whatisit? Oh! what as it?” The other men, upon hearing these words from their companion, and seeing him raise his arm, looked imme- diately in the direction in which he pointed. They shrunk back and got closer to each other. Some held their guns butt ends upwards in attitudes of defence. Then a miserable-looking object, which looked scarcely human, crept out of the shadow of the trees into the patch of moonlight. : It was Blueskin. When he fell down, as recorded at the end of the last ehapter, it was under the firm conviction that he was mortally wounded. But this he quickly found was not the case. Our readers suspect wnat had happened. The men in the wood were poachers, and hearing some oue forcing a way through the brake, they had taken 1t to be a spy, and fired in the direction of the sound. The gun was only loaded with small shot, only a few of which struck Blueskin on the leg. The remainder flew harmlessly over him. Still, in the state in which he then was, the idea that he was killed would be the one most likely to take fast hold of his imagination. ; But, as we have already said, he soon found he was unhurt. And now a result occurred which might have been expected. The flow of blood from the wound had dispelled the delirium from his brain, and he recollected with the greatest suddenness all that had occurred. He rose, although his weakness was excessive. He could hear the sound of voices, and he made his way slowly and painfully towards the place from which they came, with the intention of asking for relief. Crawling on his hands and knees, and dragging with the greatent difficulty one leg after another, he came. “Help! help!” he cried. ‘ Merey! merey! Do not strike me. I am wounded, I fear, to the death, and cau- not raise my hand in my defence. Save me—save me! Mercy—mercy !”’ It was only feebly that he could utter theze words, although he strained his voice to the utmost. And all the time he spoke he crawled nearer and nearer to the men. But as they saw him draw so close they raised ther guns threateningly, and with hoarse cries warned him off. They feared it was but a snare—a portion of some deeply-laid plan for their apprehension. “Wo—nol” said Blueskin, in a weaker voice, “you Some spy, [ should think; but I hope right, rm a 115 cannot be so inhuman as to refuse me what I ask. Help! help'—oh! help! Help me, or I die!” ** Hold off!” eried the poachers, “hold off! We ean do nothing for you. Hold off, or it will be the worse for Blueskin looked up as these unfeeling words reached hig ears. His gaze met only stern and angry faces, and weapons lifted menacingMeehovehimea’ °° ; He strove to speak. He could not. With his right hand he clutched his throat, as though he could have torn away the impediment to speech. He niade another frantic effort to raise his voice, but a whisper only issued trom his lips. “Gold!” he said, “gold! Iam rich! Gold—gold— to those who help me! Mercy! mercy! I—I—help— ah !—~he—” Uttering these words in a hissing whisper he fell like a log of wood to the ground. 7 ; qe poachers looked into each other’s faces in alarm and ouht. ‘' Poor wretch !” said one at Jast. “* Let’s finish him,” cried another, a huge, bull-necked fellow, ‘‘ we should do him a kindness by putting him out of his misery. What do you say, mates?” He swung his gun, which he had hold of by the barrel, two or three times round his head, in order that he might bring it down with greater force. And bring it down he assuredly would—for the remain- der of the gang, looking up to him as their leader, made no sign of dissent—had not a stalwart young fellow sprang forward from their midst, and caught the descending weapon 1n his hands. ** No, no,’ he cried, “I won’t stand by and see a help. less wounded man murdered if I can help it. Ili tell you what it 1s, Jack Adams: hard times, bad masters, and misfortunes may have driven me to be a poacher, but my heart is not dead yet!” “Let go of my gun!” said the tall ruffian, who had been called Jack Adams; “what do I care whether your heart is dead or not. Let go of my gun, I say, or I'll make you.” ** Never, until you promise to let this man be.” *“Ho! ho! hark, mates! How long has this young cock been your captain, I should like to know ? ” ** T say I won’t see this man murdered !”’ “He is a spy, I tell you,” cried Jack Adams, “‘ and its a trap to catch us! Death tothe spy! Isn’t that it, mates?” ** Yes, yes,” cried the others, “ down with them both— down with them both.” * Hold!” cried Adams: “now I know your minds, all Hold off a bit ; the man on the ground can’t hurt us for a minute or two, and as this js a little personal affair between George and myself, why we’ll settle it.” “Bravo, Adams! That’s fair! Giveitto him! We'll standby! Aring—aring! Makea ring!” Such were the vociferations which saluted Jack Adams’s proposal. Anything in the shape of a personal contest was some- } thing very congenial to their dispositions, and as the in- i tending combatants were the two strougest men in the gang, they looked forward to this one with unusual in- terest. As for the young man, George, he exhibited the utmost wulingness to settle the matter in the manner proposed. It was not the first difference he had had with Adams. } A ring was quickly formed and seconds appointed. With great speed the men now proceeded to divest themselves of the upper portion of their apparel, and ina minute or two they stood taciug each other in the moon- light, stripped to the waist. Both were strong, well-formed men, and tolerably matched in all respects save height and length of reach, in both of which Adams had the advantage. After a little cautious sparring they flew at each other with the utmost fury, and some heavy blows were cx- changed. Then both combatants fell to the ground. They were quickly raised by their seconds. Scarcely waiting to draw breath and wipe the blood ane dirt from their persons, they again rushed at each other. ElOOO an 5}