Jack and His Seven Foes — page 48: what you’re looking at

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JACK AND HIS SEVEN FOES. Jack led him slowly round in a circle, Jacob Sturmby came up and _ joined them. By that time night had come, and the heavens were full of stars. ‘‘ Your work is done P”’ said Jack, in an undertone. ‘“‘ Aye, dear lad,” replied Jacob, “ I’ve laid him as deep as I could single- handed. He'll sleep in peace for many a day.” ‘“ Have you thought who killed him? ”’ ‘““Some marauder, perhaps, who wanted to rob him.” ‘“No; the old man talks about six of them. ‘‘ Can you not guess now P”’ ‘The all-fired villains?” said Jacob Sturmby, raising hishands. ‘‘ Soit was them.” “JT can but think so.”’ “There is no fear o’ losing the trail, dear lad. It’s a broad track of blood they will leave behind them.” “Ave, they revelin it. Well,” said Jack, ‘‘ we cannot leave the old man to wander alone. Shall we take him with us?” “Tt’s like you, dear lad, to suggest it.” “ You are willing ?” “ Aye, heartily.” “Then let us get on.” He moved forward, and Jacob, taking old Ben by the arm, fell in behind. Silently Jack walked on in front, his head shghtly bent as he brooded over his wrongs, and those who followed him were silent, too. So they went on through the darkness, straight on the trail of the murderers, like three avenging spirits, scarce breaking the quiet of the night with the sound of their footsteps. Sometimes old Ben would utter a sup- pressed moan, and stop as if puzzled, but Jaccb Sturmby would gently press | 39 | him onward, and he would go forward and so kept within easy distance until > again without a word. So the night passed, and when the light of the stars was paling before the first ray of dawn, they came to a wood, and sat down on its borders to rest. “You had better sleep a while,” he said to Sturmby. “And you?” the other asked. “Tam going a little way, but will return to you,” Jack replied. He only went far enough to be out of sight of his companions, and throwing himself down on the turf, shed a few bitter tears. “Oh, father! Oh, Willie!” was all he said, but his whole story was told in that cry of agony. His wounds were not healed, could never be wholly healed, but the sight of poor Bill lying dead on the plain had reopened those wounds, so that as soon as he was alone they bled afresh. He lay still, with his face upon his arm, and, but for a convulsive movement that now and then shook his whole frame, a looker-on might have deemed him dead. But there was no mortal eye upon him. Alone he lay, with the rays of the rising sun upon him, and renewed his vow never to abandon the task he had set himself until it was fulfilled. After a time he arose, and went back to the others. They were lying close to the trunk of a tree, sleeping. “It will not come to me now,” Jack murmured, ‘‘but a hard day’s toil may bring me some repose.” He began at once, and, gathering some wood, lighted a fire near, and set about preparing breaktast, as if he had no shadow on his young lite, or aching of his weary heart. — PUY DPV Grr Dir tr + Dr*rtmnito <7 . CHAPTER. AN. THE GAMBLING SALOON—A LUCKY PLAYER—THE END OF HIS GOOD FORTUNE— WARNED. St. Ltucta isa small seaport, and very few people on this side of the Atlantic trouble their heads about it, but our | Yankee friends and the Mexican traders ate very familiar with it. The ships that come to the port are neither first-class nor numerous. They bring emigrants, explorers, and adven- turers, and take away whatever there is to take. COMIECLM@ao® S (CO)