Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 214: what you’re looking at

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

212 will be recollected that he was just conscious he was doing something, and that was all. The rest he had had, though brief, had ina considerable degree recuperated him, and so, when the cowardly attezapt to murder him was made, he was endowed wit) ~ return of lis former strength. But it was evanescent, lasting ouly long enough for him to secure his safety, and then departing, leaving him weaker than before. It was now getting into the busy part of the day, and many who passed hy—for the streets were thronging with people—looked upou him with curiosity, but nothing more. It is ever soin London. Those who walk much about its myriad streets must have noticed so obtrusive a fact, and a hundred and fifty years ago, when Blueskin lived, it was just the same. . When they saw the dirty and bedraggled condition be was in, and saw his apparel stained in many places with blood, those who had felt an inclination to help him turned aways leaving him to his fate—to hve or perish as he chose. Tn a little while, however, thanks to the vigorous con- stitution he possessed, Blueskin got so far better as to be able to stand without holding by the wall. ; Then, in a devious, tottering fashion, he made his way down the street. What the name of it was he had no idea, but after pro- ceeding a few steps, he found it led into a wider and busier thoroughfare. Sad indeed would have been his fate had he at that moment encountered his arch enemy, Jonathan Wild. The thief-taker would not have scrupled to take his life, defenceless as he was, for he wished above all things to be rid of him. Blueskin staggered on. The people gave way, right and Icft, before lim, allow- ing him a clear passage. Suddenly there passed ucross Blueskin’s imperfect vision the bottles of variegated hues which adorn the windows of chemists’ shops. The thought struck him that he would enter here, and | in cet his hurts properly washed and dressed. Money he had in his pockets in plenty, and he knew well enough that the mere sight of 1t would procure him every attention. He entered the shop. A boy of a very diminutive species, and with a look of precocious intelligence upon his countenance which was really painful to witness, stood behind the counter. He looked rather alarmed when he saw Blueskin come in, though he was accustomed to have visits trom rather rough-looking customers. But Blueskin was in a terrible plight, and his appear- auce was ghastly in the extreme. In a spasmodic sort of way the boy managed to gasp t— on Shop!” In reply to this call, there came into the shop, from a very dirty parlour behind it, a stout, middle-aged man, whose countenance wore a pleasing expression of kind- ness. As well as he could, Blueskin, in reply to his inquiries, made him aware of what he required. He accompanied it with the promise of paying well for what was done. , Accordingly, tho chemist led Blueskin imto the little dingy parlour which we have incidentally mentioned, and there proceeded to make an examination of the nature of his hurts. ; But until he ealled for a basin of ‘sob water and a sponge, and cleared the coagulated blood froin the orifice of the wound, he could not tell much about them. Then was revealed a long gash or furrow in his shoulder which the bullet had made. oo, | Fortunately, when it struck him it did not lodge any where, but just encountering the shoulder-bone, glanced off it, and ploughed up the flesh several inches in the dirce- tion of his neck. This, while it looked a formidable affair, really was not so, but the chemist said— “ Really, my dear sir, you are in @ very bad state in- deed. LT am sure I dou’t know what I shall do for you. You require to have your wounds carefully dressed in the on & om oe BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. first place, and then rest and strengthening medicines in the second.” “The first I may have,” replied Blueskin, “ but the eecond is quite out of the question. Dress my wounds as well as you are able.” Thus commanded, the chemist get about his rather un- pleasant task. _ We must do him the justice to say that he performed 1t in a very creditable manner. When he had finished, Blueskin was quite overcome. Perceiving it, the chomist gave him permission to satay where he was for a few hours. Of this Blueskin took immediate advantage, thanking him as he did so. A few hours’ quiet rest, and a couple of doses of medi- cine, which the chemist mixed up, as well as some strengthening food, made a most wonderful difference. By dusk he was quite another man. Unquestionably it would bave been best for him to have persevered in his present course of treatment, but his impatience to know Jack’s fate, and that also of his master’s child, Edgworth Bess, made it impossible for him to do so. Giving the chemist five guineas for his trouble and attention, he left the shop. Upon going outside, he found himself in Union-street, Southwark. He knew, of course, in a moment, which way to take, now that his head and mind were clear. He directed his steps to London-bridge, intending to got that way to Newgate-street, and make some inquiries there. He looked out for a hackney-coach for some time, but unsuccessfully. But he walked on until he reached the Borough, where he made sure he should see one pass. As it so happened, however, not one was in sight. While standing and looking, he was startled by a voice at his elbow. ** Any cloesh, sir P—any cloesh? MHere’s shome that will just shuit you. Verysheap, too. Valkim, sir. Valk Blueskin turned round before half this speech, which was spoken with extreme volubihty, was uttered, and saw standing near him, in a deferential attitude, an old Jew clothes’ salesman. A flaring oil-lamp from the shop, which was the corner one, sent a flickering light upon the pavement, and by the aid of this, Blueskin looked down at his apparel, and per- ceiving the shocking condition he was iu, did not hesitate to accept the man’s proposal. From a large assortment he selected a suit of clothes, such as he considered would best suit him. These were quite of an ordinary kind, and such as would be worn by almost any one in the middle rank of life. He changed his own for these, and paid the difference. He made some improvements in his toilet, and gave bimself a good washing, so that when he emerged from the clothier’s he looked quite a reputable character. There was only one thing he now required to complete the metamorphosis, and that was the services of a barber. In London one has not far to go to find one of these shops, so without hesitation he went into the first to which he came, In addition to being shaved—and in this latter opera- tion he had all vestige of beard, mustache, and whisker removed from his face—he had his hair cut. Scarcely any one would have believed that a few simple changes like these would have made the difference they did. He now looked a gentleman. Leaving the barber’s shop, he walked to the kerb- stoue, and stood there waiting for a hackney-coach to pass im, While so engagea, a ragged, shrunken, and emaciated object crawled up to him. “Want a coach, your honour?” he said. ‘Let ma fetch one for you. God bless your honour! I am starving!” Something in the tone of this man’s voice struck Blueskin as heing familiar. Whero he had heard them before he could not think for a moment, but all at once he recollected. With a fierce cry upon his lips, he sprang forward and grasped the poor miserable-looking being by the threat. 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