Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

Bad —_— | = SPRING-HEEL D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. could have placed it in his hands—destroyed it before his eyes, and laughed to scorn the villain who has robbed me of my husband. But of what availisitnow? None—none. It cannot harm him, neither can it bring him back to life. What has it done for him—for me? Ay, what? Am I not a thief? Curses on it! It has plunged us both into crime. But no other eye shall see it. I will destroy it—hide it from men’s sight for ever; but how? Would this man would go —would that 1 were alone!” She raised her eyes and met those of Simpson. She was anxious to dispose of the fatal evi- dence, but saw that to attempt to burn or de- stroy it would excite the officer’s surprise and curiosity. This she had no wish to do. - She alone knew her guilt now, and she re- solved that none other should learn it. “Perhaps if I feign sleep he’ will leave the room,” she muttered ; ‘if only for an instant, it will enable me to get rid of the forged cheque, if not the book.” She laid her head back on the pillow of the sofa, and. closed her eyes. | But she could not stifle the long-drawn sighs and choking sobs which escaped her bosom. The officer leaned his elbow on the table, and supported His head on his hand, but watched through his open fingers the form and features of Jane Slater. — A feeling of drowsiness stole over him, but he shook it off, fearing that if he suffered himself to sleep only for an instant she would attempt to rob herself of life. The working of Jane’s face as she murmured to herself excited his suspicions, and though he pretended to doze, he was watchful and wakeful. He had no thought of what Jane contemplated, but he knew that she did not sleep, though he felt she would wish him to think so. He was a young man, and young in the force, but he was an acute observer and deep thinker, two qualities which, in after years, raised him high in the police force. or about half an hour both continued to be perfectly oblivious of the presence of the other. Then Jane opened her eyes, and looked to- wards him. : His head still rested on his hand, and he appeared to slumber. ; _.. lowly she arose into a sitting posture. Eagerly she strove to detect any sign or movement that might indicate he was aware of a change in her position. None came. Jane rose silently and stealthily to her feet. Still Simpson moved not. She opened her hand and noiselessly unfolded the crumpled cheque. Holding it between her finger and thumb, she moved cautiously towards the table, on which the candle burned. with a long wick. She stretched out her hand towards it. The paper was over the flame, which leaped up to enfold it in its embrace. But ere it caught, her wrist was seized and her arm forced back, while, with the other hand, _ Simpson tore the cheque from her hold. A scream escaped her lips, and she staggered. back|a few paces, then paused and gazed upon the tall form which had risen from its. chair. For some moments she continued to gaze alternately at the officer’s face and the cheque in his pend, and then, springing towards him, she cried— } “Give if me—giveitme! You have noright to take it from me.” ‘‘ Excuse me,” he said, in acalm tone, “ what would you do with it ?” ‘ Destroy it—it is nothing,”’ in trembling accents. “Then, why did you wait till you thought I slept, and then proceed in so stealthy and sus- she exclaimed, ‘picious a manner ?” 7 ‘“* |—I—oh, pray give it me. It does not con- cern you,’ she exclaimed, in a choking voice. “What would you do?” “Simply my duty.” “ But this is no part of it. You were left here to prevent me laying violent hands upon myself, - not to take away any piece of paper I may wish to destroy.” “T am sorry ‘to do anything which may pain your feelings, especially when they are already pained enough. But your anxiety to possess the paper when it fell from the book, and your strange proceedings during the last few moments, leads me to consider that I should not return it to your hands till I know what it is.’’ ‘Tt is a private” » “If it is simply a private letter, its contents shall not be read by me.. Ah!” he added, as he cast his eyes upon it for the first time, “a cheque!” Jane uttered another scream, and staggered back to the sofa. , “ A cheque,” said Simpson, “drawn on the bank; signed, Ralph Grasper.” | He folded it over once, and looking at Jane, exclaimed— ‘‘T should ill perform the duties I have sworn to fulfil, did I not place this in the hands of my superiors.’ “You surely will not ” ‘However painful it may be to you, I cer- tainly shall do so. Lam not the man to seek to harrow the feelings of others ; but knowing what I do of the antecedents of your late husband, I will not part with this cheque. It may be nothing—it may be your own property. In either case no harm can come to you by its retention by me. I shall place it in the hands of my in: spector, who, I am sure, will not make any wrong use of it. Doubtless you think me harsh and unfeeling, but you misjudge me if you do s0. I simply wish to do what my conscience assures me is right; and therefore I shall retain this cheque till I arrive at the station, and then give it into the hands of my inspector.” “You shall not—by heaven, you shall not!” cried Jane, thinking for the moment only of the erime she had committed, and the triumph of Grasper, when it came to his knowledge she had been found out. And springing upon the officer, she strove to tear it from his grasp. oie. iT But Simpson gently repulsed her with his left hand, and held the coveted slip of paper above his head, out of her reach, with his nght. GOmiecnoo