Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road — A Tale of the Good Old Times — page 391: what you’re looking at

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

BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. —- But in vain. It still remained fast. A closer search now showed him a keyhole, ard, before _he applied his picklock to it, he bethought himsclf of an expedient which would set all his doubts at rest. Restoring his pisto] to his pockat, ho stooped down and applied his lips to the keyhole. Then he spoke as follows— “Jf there is anyene here in life who wishes to escape, and have uttcred sugh dismal groans to attraet attention, let him speak, for a friend is at hand who will lend him all the assistance in his power.” Blueskin had no sooner spoken than, with the utmost speed, he moved his mouth and placed his ear to the key- hole, in order to catch, with as much distinctness as pos- sible, the reply to his ‘words. It came. The voice was feeble, but Blueskin could catch tre im- port of the words which were spoken. “ Mercy—mercy!” cried this voice, in gasping, wailing tones. ‘Have mercy upon me, andsaveme. Oh! have mercy upon me. Save me—save me from all the horrors of this dreadful place. You shall have gold—gold, it you will only save me.’ ‘* Patience,” cried Blueskin, putticg his mouth to the Keyhole again, and speaking in an assuring tone of voice. * Have patience, and I will do my best to help you. I. have been chased to this spot by my foes, but I heard your cries, and I will aid you. The door of the vault is strong, and seems well secured, so that I may be some time in making an entrance.”’ ‘T will be patient,” said the voice; “but, oh! lose no more time than you can possibly help in freeing me from this place. You do not know the horrors of it. Quick, oh! quick.” *’ Patience.” “Yam patient, but the vault is full of noisome reptiles, and I have great trouble in keeping off the rats—they ewarm here. ‘They surround me by thousands. 1 am already bleeding in many places from the wounds which their fangs have inflicted. Quick—oh! quick.” “T will be quick,” There could be no mistaking the tones of genuine horror with which these words were spoken by the living inmate of the tomb. As Blueskin heard them he felt the blocd curdle in his veins, and his breath came short and thick. But he did not allow these emotions to interfere with his exertions to procure the prisoner’s release. He set about the task forthwith. The first thing he did was to make a close inspection of the keyhole by means of his wax taper. He found the leck to be a very good one, but still he did not despair of being able to shoot back the bolt with the picklock. What he hadalready that night effected with this little instrument will suffice to show the reader that he was quite an expert in the use of it. And so he was. But, then, his expertness was the result of long practice. He inserted the same hooked piece of steel into the lock as he had made use of on former occasions. The lock, however, appeared to have some intricate mechanism, or there was some peculiarity in its construc- tion, for Blueskin, after repeated trials, could make no impression upon it. And, during the time which elapsed while Blueskin was th as occupied, the occupant of the vault from time 30 time gave vent to the most doleful cries end iamenta- tions. It was in vain that Blueskin exhorted him to bo patient, | and explained the difficulties he had to contend with in opening the door. “The rats!” was the shrieking response. ‘The rats! They grow bolder every moment. I cannot keep them off. They spring upon me in all directions. They tear my flesh. Off—off! I cannot keep them off.” “A little more patience,” said Blueskin, who stil] per- ecvered with the use of the picklock in spite of the frequent defeats. “A little more patience, and then all will be well.” With this smal] amount of consolation the prisoner had ‘> be content. tad he possessed at that moment anything else adanted Ot ee re TE Pg A a NSAP, Pe SEEN eee Yea WES to unfastening the leck, of course he would have made a trial of it, but he had not. If the picklock failed utterly, he did not know what Le should do. But he had faith in it, and continued to work on. He knew that the lock might baffle him to the last moment, and then fly back. A bullet through the keyhole would, perhaps, have shattered the lock, so much as to make it possible to burst the door open ; but Blueskin was afraid to adopt such a means as that, lest the sound should reach his enemies and guide them to the spof. To his satisfaction, the crooked picce of stee] at last caught in the bolt of the lock, and then a sudden twist of the wrist forced it back inte its setting. So far as the lock was concerned, the prisoncr was free to emerge from the vaulf. Blueskin said as much, and strove to push it open. But it resisted all his efforts, and remained as immovable as a rock. CHAPTER CCLIX. BLUESKIN RESCUES TIE STRANGER FROM THE AND IIAS A CONTEST WITH TUE RATS. Ir was a minute or two before Blueskin could think what was the reason the door would not open, now that appar- ently all the fastenings were removed, and tlen, witha sudden rush, the idea came across him that the door opened outwardly into the passage, instead of inwardly into the vault, as he had first supposed. To have this idea and to try whether it was correct seemed simultaneous occurrences, and they were nearly SO VAULTS, He hooked the piece of steel in the keyhole, and then found that, as he pulled towards him, the door slowly creaked open upon its hinges. Frem the impatience which the person who was the inmate of that vault had all along displayed to have the door opened and make his escape, Blueskin quite antici- pated that he would make a sudden rush into the passage. We say ‘*he” because the tones of the voice were de- cidedly masculine. But nothing of the sort took place. « AJl was still. Not a sound—not a movement came from the interior of the vault. As soon as he was cognizant of this, Blueskin carried his hand to his forehead, ‘and those strange notions which lrad first seized upon his brain, when he heard the awful cry, returned with redoubled forse. What if, after all, he had been made the dupe of some horrible spectre, for whom those dark and pestiferous vaults were acengenial residence. All that he had ever heard from time to time, and all the horrors that his own imagination supplied him with, rushed upon his brain, and, dizzy and sick, he once more leaned against the wall. But he was aroused from this by a scuffling noise, and now and then a squeak. Then the truth burst upon him at once. ‘ What a fool Iam to stand hero like this. I see it all now, and, owing to my folly, my services may turn out to be nuavailing. The poer wretch is exhausted, and has doubtless sunk upon the ground—perhaps he has fainted with the joy of his release from such an awful place. That is the reason of the silence, and now the rats are banqueting upon hini, while he is powerless to keep them As ne spoke, Blueskin drew his sword, and rushed iuto the cell. A scampering sound followed his appearance. Then, holding the light above his head, he saw that rats, in countless numbers, were racing over the floor. It was a large vault into which Blueskin had pene- trated. On all sides of him were coffins placed upon shelves ranged round the walls. The floor of the vault was thickly covered with saw- dust. But it was rot upon these objects that Blueskin’s gaze rested. He took a passing glance at them merely, CO JOO C SS (SO) 5}