Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

~ a ‘‘ Try it,” said Jack, taking one of his terrific springs forward. _.“ Knock under, old fellow, or we must bring you down with our staves,’ said the other. ‘‘ Your game’s up now.” “ Not quite,” said Jack. ‘“ It would take a a dozen of you to make me prisoner.” *< None of your boasting; for I’ve got you safe now,” cried the man who had rejoiced in the name of Dick, as he grasped our hero by the shoulder, just as they arrived opposite a newly built public-house at the corner of the roads. “ Hold tight, then!” said Jack, with a quick and sudden blow knocking the oflicer over on to the ground, _ ,Witha cry of rage the other policeman bounded towards him, but Jack eluded his grasp, and summoning up all his strength for a spring, bounded high up and far off at the same time. ‘* Follow if you dare!” said Jack. ‘“‘ Take me if you can!” And asthe man stood hesitating whether to stay with his fellow-comrade or follow, Spring- heeled Jack dashed qnickly away in the darkness, and was soon lost to sight. | CHAPTER VI. TREACHERY-—THE ARREST—BLIGHTED HOPES. “Two o'clock had sounded from a hundred steeples in the great metropolis, and died away over the vast and slumbering city, which echoed only to the monotonous tread of the policeman as he went his measured round, or the rude song of the drunken brawler who had spent his last shilling in the low public, as he reeled home to his bed. , Sleep had closed the eyes of thousands of the weary sons of toil, but some there were who still laboured, watched, or wept. 'And among the latter was the poor young ereature whom Jack had rescued from a fate more horrible than death a few short hours before. {n a small room of a little cottage standing in -the Britannia Fields—now a thickly inhabited town—sat Jane Slater, the wile of a clerk, who, forgetful of the advice of kind and indulgent parents, forgetful of his own character and his wife’s love, in an evil hour had forged his em- ployer’s name to a cheque for fifty pounds. Lhe forgery had been discovered—the signature of the forger traced, and infamy, disgrace, and shame had fallen upon that small but hitherto happy abode, Lhe employer, as we have seen, was a man of unflinching resolve, and cruel and heartless nature, He had been poor—abjectly poor—in his youth, and it would seem that poverty had steeled his heart and warped his soul, Cool, calculating, and desiguing, he no sooner commenced to earn money, than he found means to double it, if not morally honest, at least legally so. Mean in his dealings with others, he was also mean to himself ; everything, save absolute neces- saries, he abjured, and lived in the garret of a SPRING-HEEL’D JACK : THE TERROR OF LONDON. | hands, at the moment he was about to flee to | miserly employer, Ralph Grasper ings of hope, fear; and shame. house in a second-rate neighbourhood, when his | position would have enabled him to live instyle | | and be surrounded by every comfort. peor But money was his god, and dearly did he worship it. No wife or child shared liis love : that was centered alone in his gold. | No wonder, then, that the poor foolish forger dared not hope for mercy at the hands of such | a man—no wonder that surprise almost held James Slater spell-bound, when a note request- ing the presence of his wife was placed in his escape the penalty of his crime. Asstt What could he think of this request from his What could it mean from one he knew to be of an unforgiving nature, of a cruel heart, and firm resolves ? } He could not divine. Vy iP But the woman, with her forgiving nature, | believed she could perceive the clue to the mystery. | garg Ralph Grasper had seen her on more than one occasion, when on a fine evening she had gone to the warehouse to meet her beloved husbahd, and accompany him home. i ‘wljis She at once leaped to the conclusion that the iron nature of the man was not, after all, so hard and unfeeling, that, though he felt bound to threaten the forger; he could yet forgive him through his wife. | OL “He pities me,” she said, “ and will forgive you, James! Iwill see him—go at once. My tears, my prayers, my supplications will melt his stubborn heart, and all will yet be well.” As drowning men grasp at straws, so did James Slater grasp at this hope, and urged hi wife to go and see the man whom he had so basely injured, promising to await her return, and then seek safety in flight if she failed to obtain for him forgiveness, esube) With a beating, yet hopeful heart; the young | wife sped on her errand, leaving her guilty | husband to await her return with mingled feel- . “walt > -_ -— aap —_. — i ———— - ey nana “a = a. ao But ere she had left the house five minutes | he heard heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. | He sprang to his feet pale with terror and , dismay. 4 He judged whose those footsteps were. He grasped his hat and sprang to the window. | To fling it up was but the work of a moment; — the distance to leap to the ground was not — more than ten feet, but he recoiled with a cry of — despair. L a ' In front of the house stood two policemen. What should he do? Kre he could answer the question he had — asked himself, the door of the room was flung | open, {| He turned quickly. | f c wo officers stood before him, A 8 Me recoiled till his back touched the wall, then covering his face with his hands, groaned in | acony— are | y “Oh! God! Lost—lost!” ‘Not quite, my fine fellow,” said ene, “You — should say found—found—for you are our pri- soner !” ooo “ Your prisoner!” gasped Slater,