Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 307: what you’re looking at

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

2 SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. ee ae ee et ground at the back of the house, showing the | greatest eagerness for the fisht—swearing terri- bly, and offeriug bets of pots of beer on their favourite man. “Good,” said Jack, as he found himself left alone in the bar. ‘‘ I can make sure the fellow won't go home now for some minutes, and can talk to his wife without any fear of the raffian hearing my business. I should be sorry for her to sutter, whether she can give me-any informa- tion of Ellen or not.” _ He cast one look over at the house opposite, and left the Flyers. He knocked at the door with the greasy cord in the centre of the panel, and the shouts that reached his ears from the beerhouse while he awaited an answer to his summons, convinced him that the affray had begun. He had to knock a second time before anyone came, when the wife of the pigeon fancier stood before him. “Mrs. Jackson!” said Jack. Yes, sir, lam Mrs. Jackson.” **T wish to speak to you.”’ “Yes, sir,’ said the woman, evidently half fearful of her gentlemanly visitor, and seeming to hesitate whether to shut the door in his face, or not, “Do not be alarmed,” said Jack; ‘‘ I wish to ask you a plain question, and all I require in return is a truthful answer. I know that your fear of your husband might withhold it, but rest assured, he shall never know of this meeting ; and, if you give me the information I require, I will, in return, give you five pounds, It can do you no harm to speak truly, nor shall it harm your husband, even if he has had any hand in the strange affair.” ‘Oh, what is it, sir? Has Bill been up to anything ?”’ said Mrs. Jackson, tremulously. “You can tell me that. Now, some time since, you had a young woman living here, named Ellen Folder ?”’ “MES. SITs: ‘“ Where is she now ?”’ ‘Lor’ bless you, sir, she went away one night, and we’ve never seen her since. I’m sure I couldn’t tell you, if you were to give me a mint of money.’ “ Have you heard of her from your husband, or anyone else ?”’ ‘€ Not a word.” “ Remember, any information you can give of her places five pounds in your hand,” said J ack, rattling the coins in his pocket as he spoke. “TJ wish to heaven I could tell you,” said the woman, ‘‘ I do, indeed.” Jack was convinced that the woman spoke truly. The tones of her voice told him that. : “Then you cannot earn the five pounds? said Jack. : | ‘No, sir. I wish I could ; for little Bill havn’t got a shoe to lis foot, nor Sally a gown to her back. Oh,. I only wish I did know ; for five pounds, unknown to my husband, would be a fortune to us. Oh, that it would—quite a God- send!” said Mrs. Jackson, sighing heavily. Tack saw that to press the woman further would be useless, but he hazarded the remark— ae COmMmIiGcooo 309 ‘‘T suppose you could think of none who could sive me the information I desire ?” “ Nota soul, unless Isaac Levy, the Jew clo- thier; he might know. She used to work for him before she went away so strange, like. I think the poor gal committed suicide—I do.” “Perhaps,” said Jack. ‘‘ However, I won't detain you longer, since you can neither give me any clue to Miss Folder, or change the five pounds from my pocket to your own.’ ““God knows, how willing I’d be to do so,” said. the woman; ‘“‘ but I won’t rob you by telling you alie, sir, much as I want even a shilling.” Jack looked at the woman a moment, and saw by the light which streamed from the window of the Pigeon Flyers full upon the doorway, that tears were 10 her eyes. “One more question,’ said Jack. know a man named Grasper ?”’ “The old villain!” cried the woman. know him.”’ ‘‘ Has he been here lately ?”’ “VYes—no! I don’t know.” ‘“‘T intend no harm to you or yours, Mrs. Jack- son; so tell me, has the man Grasper been here since the night he encountered Spring-heeled Jack in the room above?” ‘‘ Good heavens! no, sir. know ” “No matter. I believe you have answered me truly, and you shall not suffer for your can- dour. Here are five pounds. Keep the gift unknown from your husband, who would but squander it in that low beer-house; and now sood night!” The woman took the money with a bounding heart, clutched her fingers tightly over it, and looked half-frightened into Jack’s face. “Oh! thank you—thank you; but who are you, sir, who give me this? Who are you that seek Ellen Folder, and know the character of my husband so well ?”’ ‘Can you keep a secret ?” « Yes—oh, yes !”’ “We have met before, Mrs. Jackson.”’ « Where, sir?” ‘In your front room, upstairs.” ‘‘ Then you are ”’ “ Spring-heeled Jack The woman staggered back aghast, and when she sufficiently recovered herself, the doorway was empty, and Jack was gone. “Do you “TI do But how did you | 7? CHAPTER CVI. THE FATAL FIGHT—THE END OF BILL JACKSON. In the meantime, the fight in the skittle-ground continued to rage between the two intoxicated men ; and the shouts of the onlookers, mingled with the disgusting oaths of the combatants as they struck, and closed, and fell, in the dirty, sawdust-floored apartment of the skittle-alley rat pit of the Pigeon Flyers. . The confusion reached the ears of the wife as she stood in the doorway, clasping the coins Jack had given her in her hand, and thinking how she could prevent Bill knowing anything about them. . But she thought nothing of it—the drunken SEO)