Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

16) _ The minutes flew by, and with their flight came returning sense to the forger’s wite. Once more alive to all that had passed, she dragged her wearied body from the hed, and tottered to a chair, into which she sank. ‘““Gone—gone!” she muttered. ‘‘ They have torn him from me—borne him away to a felon’s cell! He would not have left the house by his own accord till my return. They hav» '»rne him to jail—to prison—to a felon’s cell, aad J am left alone in my misery, to mourn his fate— his diserace—his shame. -God help me! for 1 am sorely tried—widowed in heart and soul!” Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed aloud, the sounds of her grief mingling with the tick of the clock, which seemed to mock at her misery. ., CHAPTER VII. FRESH TROUBLES—THE ACCUSATION—A GEM IN THE ROUGH—A VILLAIN DEFEATED BY AN UN- - LOOKED-FOR FRIEND. THroucHovut that night Jane Slater sat a prey to the most poignant grief, nor did the cold morning air, which struck a chill to her shiver- ing form, induce her to retire to her hed. The first streak of dawn, the rays of the rising sun, the hurried step of the artizan as he went to his daily toil, and the busy hum of the new day—all broke upon her senses, yet she moved not from her seat, but still clasped her tear- bedewed face in her hands, and wept and sobbed as if the well-springs of her lacerated heart would never dry up. Seven o’clock, and the busy hum of life had taken the place of silence and slumber, when a loud knock at the street door caused the palpi- tating heart of Jane Slater to throb with fearful violence, and she bounded from her chair. Again the summons sounded through the house, and with feelings indescribable she iptten from the room down the stairs to the oor. | Trembling with agitation, she drew back the lock and staggered to the wall of the passage, as. the door was thrust violently open and revealed ‘9 aes the forms of two policemen on its thres- old. * Are you Mrs. Slater ?” asked one of the men. Jane made no reply. She could but gaze in horror upon the man. The question was repeated in a more surly tone. Jane strove to reply, but her tongue refused its office, and the tears which for a moment had ceased to flow burst forth afresh. Observing this, the other oflicer, who seemed less rough than his companion, laid his hand gently on her arm, and in a low, mild tone, said— ** Don’t be alarmed, my good woman, but tell us, is your name Slater ?”’ “Tt is,” she sighed. “Then it becomes our painful duty to inform you—although, doubtless, you are aware of the fact—that your husband is in custody on the charge of forgery.” ‘My heart told me so,” she sobbed, “ when I found him gone.” Oo A, J A 6 . | SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. | ee te ‘We have no wish to wound your feelings,” continued the man, ‘‘ but we have a duty to per- form.’”’ And as he spoke he walked into the passage, followed by his companion, who immediately closed the door behind him. kc “A duty?” cried Jane. “Oh! what duty? ‘¢To search the house,” replied the man. ‘You can see our warrant if you desire it.” “No,” she said, sorrowfully. ‘‘Do as you please. The worst has come to pass.” ‘We have no wish to cause you unnecessary pain,” said the man, “but you will not be allowed to leave this house till we depart.” “You will find nothing here but what 1s honestly come by,” sobbed Jane. * T hope not.” “ Indeed you will not!” ‘¢ Still we must obey orders.” ‘‘T shall make no attempt to go.” ‘Very good, then. We will just look over this room first,” said the man, opening the door of the little parlour. | Jane staggered to the stairs and sat down upon them. » | She cared not what the officers did, or how they displaced the things in her little parlour— that room she loved to keep so neat and tidy. The man having looked around, opened the two little sideboard cupboards and gazed into every corner, came to the passage again. ‘We dare say you have got nothing but what belongs to you,” said: one, “‘ but we will take a peep upstairs, if you please.” + ‘Go where you like—do what you like!” sobbed Jane, rising to let them pass. ‘¢There—there! Don’t take on so, my good woman; things may turn out better than you think for, after all.” wc3 ‘Alas! alas! hope is dead within me,” sighed the forger’s wife. | “ Be of good cheer. It’s not every fellow that does wrong gets punished for it, especially if he gets good counsel. A dozen things stand in the way of a conviction. A flaw in the indictment, or something else may turn up; so don’t be downhearted ; while there’s life there’s hope, you know.” £* Not for me—not forme!” — ‘ad The two officers went up the stairs, leaving her standing on the little mat at the bottom, and entered the room where her husband had been made prisoner the night before. Certainly they did not expect to find anything, for they just glanced round the apartment, and turned to descend again to the passage, when the eye of him who had spoken so SS at ighted upon a crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor. He kicked it with the toe of his boot, then . stooped and picked it up. Slowly unfolding it, he siarted and looked hard at his companion. ‘“ What’s up?” was the question. “ Blessed if it ain’t ”——- ‘What ?” interrupted the other. “A cheque.’ | “ A cheque !”’ said his companion in surprise. ‘Yes, and drawn on the same bank, and signed by the same name, as this fellow’s in quod for.” | $ pe Gomicopood CO :