Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

As they were about to drive off, however, our a sprung to the animal’s head, and seized the l 2) _ By the light of the lamp the features of the | two men were plainly visible to Jack, and in an instant he recognised the thief and the miser. The features of the woman he could not then make out, for a large handkerchief was tied over her mouth and nose, but in the poor habiliments she wore he recognised the miser’s ward, Martha Scrivener, from whom he had parted a few minutes since. ~ In ani instant the whole affair flashed upon m. ) They had been watched and overheard by the two worthies, who, when they parted, had fol- lowed and overtaken the woman, whom they must have forced down the steps of the bridge, out of sight of any passer-by, till the arrival of the cart, which must have been ready at hand for hee reception. r Finding a man at the animal’s head, and doubt- less recognising in an instant who it was, both Scrivener and his companion gave utterance toa ery half of terror and surprise. | “Cut him with the whip, Blodger—cut him down!” cried the miser. ‘* It’s the villain that robbed me! Cut him down, and trample him under the horse’s feet ! ”’ , | The fellow raised the whip to fulfil the injunc- tion of the miser, when Jack exclaimed— “ Look you, my man} if you so much as touch me with that whip, Pll fling you into the river ; and you have had good proof that I am no boaster. What are you doing with that woman ?” “ What's that to you?” cried Scrivener. ‘Get away and let us pass, or [’ll call for the police.” While this conversation was going on, Martha ‘succeeded in tearing the bandage from her mouth. “Save me!—save me!” she cried. ‘* Oh! ‘gir, Save me!” “ They shall not harm you,” said Jack. “ They want to say I’m mad, and take me to a lunatic asylum. Oh! don’t let them. Iam not mad!” | . “ She is mad—quite mad!” cried Scrivener. “ Stand aside—molest us at your peril. I say | sheis mad!” And I say you are a wicked, contemptible old liar!’’ cried Jack, taking a knife from his | pocket, and severing the traces, so that the | animal could not be urged forward. “ Now, suffer that woman to descend from the cart.” She shan’t go!—she shan’t go!” exclaimed Scrivener. ‘‘ She is my ward, and she’s stark, staring, raving mad! Tm her guardian, and will do what I please. Go away, or it will be the worse for you, you midnight robber ! ” “ Steady there, old man,” said Jack. “ You shall do nothing of the kind. The lady is beyond the reach of your guardianship, being over age. Now, sir, as I have neither time nor inclination to waste words in arguing with you, you will please to suffer that lady to get out of the cart, or I'll pull you out, and not very tenderly either, to enable her to do so.” “Tl call for the police, you ruffian !—you | robber !—you” yy SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. ou dare not do that, lest I give you into | 143 custody for seeking to deprive your niece of her liberty,” said Jack. “‘ Now then, out you come !” And leaving the horse’s head, Jack seized the old man by the arm with a vice-like srip. ‘* Blodger—Blodger !” cried the miser, ‘‘ he— he'll kill me !” ‘* Very likely,” said Jack; “for you are not fit to live. Now, sir, suffer that woman to get out.” “1 won't.” ‘** We'll see about that,” cried our hero. But as he put forth his strength to drag the man out of the vehicle, he received a blow on the head from the butt-end of the whip. Martha had raised her hands to stay the in- tentions of Mr. Blodger, and had partially sue- ceeded, or Jack would certainly have been stunned. “ Confound you!” cried Jack, his temper somewhat tried by the act; “‘ but Ill punish you for that, my fine fellow.” Another blow descended, and to avoid this Jack released his hold of the miser’s arm, and sprang backwards a few feet. “ Murder—murder!” roared Scrivener, who, losing his balance, brought his face right in the way of the whip handle, and received the blow upon the bridge of his nose, which sent him all of a heap into the bottom of the cart. As he fell, Jack gave a bound and alighted beside Blodger in the vehicle. “ You confounded scoundrel!” he exclaimed, seizing the man by the throat. “But you shall suffer for this night’s work. Now, Miss Scri- vener, please to get out, while I hold the villain.” This the girl was not slow to do, and trembling and frightened, she leaped to the ground. * Stop her—stop her!” cried the uncle, stag- gerine into a sitting position. “I won't be robbed—I won’t be robbed! Oh! Murder!” Down he went again, as Jack, lifting Mr. Blodger from his feet, fairly hurled him over the side of the cart into the road, where the ruffian lay groaning from the pain caused by a dis- located collar-bone. ‘“¢ Silence, you avaricious old villain,” cried Jack; “or, by heaven, I will serve you the same !-” “ Mercy! Oh, don’t!” exclaimed Scrivener. « ‘¢ Promise me, then, you will not seek further to molest this girl,” said Jack. “¢ Yes—yes. J won’t—upon my soul, I won't,” cried the man, fearful that Jack was about to perform his threat. a “Do not harm him, sir—oh! do not harm him,” pleaded Martha. “‘ He is.a wicked man to cede to rob the orphan ; but heaven, in its own good time, will punish him for his sins.” ‘‘ He is, indeed, a wicked old scoundrel,” said ) Jack, leaping from the cart to her side, “to — seek to possess the little left you by your father, by wishing to bury you alive in a madhouse.” “ God forgive him!” said Martha. “The devil seize him, I say,” cried Jack. ‘‘ T would not have that man’s feelings when he lays upon his death-bed for all the wealth of the world.” “Tm poor, very poor,” gasped the miser. ‘“Tt’s not her money you would rob me of, but my hard-earned gold. I ought to be paid for — "* AN)ICe Go books