Jack and His Seven Foes — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

JACK AND HIs eyes fixed on the hut that lay hke a toy below. Sneezer, after hesitating a bit and making another appeal to him about going on, was obliged to collect the sticks, and make a tire without assist- nnce. Ile grumbled a good deal wluile he worked, and said some very bitter things, but he talked to cars that were deat. The Pantaloon was not thinking of him. His mind was rehearsing the events of the mght—the culminating time of horror in his dark and terrible life. He ealled back the face of the sorrow- stricken man who bade them welcome and gave them shelter, and cursed his murderers as savages. But he cursed because he had a dread ot the fate in store tor him. If the shadow of Jack had been lifted up from his heart, he would have been as bad as ever. A vile, wicked old man was the Pantaloon, a brute by instinct, but a coward at heart. Kre long he saw three men come out of the hut, and knew that they were his companions. They walked a lttle way, andstopped. «What now 2?” he asked himself, and the answer came from the hut as the flames leaped forth, and a column of smoke ros se straight i in the still air. “The finish,’ he muttered, and the three men moving on again, ne rose to his feet. “‘Sneezer,”’ he said, “‘ I’m going.’ “Going where ?”’ asked the other. ‘““Away—lI can’t rest here,” said the Pantaloon. “I couldn’t be another hour with them yonder. ‘You've grown mighty particular all of a sudden,” said the Sneezer, blowing >fre to make it burn; z but you Lae best, of course.”’ ‘Jt is my only hope,” said the Panta- loon. ‘“There’s a big wood yonder, and I'll go and hide in that until the seven days are OVET ; then, if I’m spared, [’ll follow on.’ “ But you will want something to eat,’ said the Sneezer; “‘ you can’t live on sTass.”” “Tye a hp ot ship’s biscuits in my pocket,” replied the Pantaloon; — —— eee - VEN FOES. 85 “but I doubt if I shall touch | them until my time has come and gone.’ “Tt’'s a horrible thing,” said the Sneezer, shivering; “but perhaps, after all, you fancied you met him.” “Was it fancy on-your part ?” “No; I saw him right enough.” “So did I, and heard him. ‘'There’s no fancy in the business, I wish there was.” ‘“ But then again he may be bragging.” “Did he brag before you, Sneezer 2” “No; but then again we may have got clear of him.” “Ah, just so,” with a weary look ahead ; but then you see we mayn't. said the Pantaloon, “we may, It is possible for him to be within a few yards of us at this moment.” “Great heaven! don’t talk like that,” exclaimed the Sneezer, looking about him apprehensively. ‘* I—I—atchew! Oh, dear me! if I thought that— atchew—atchew !”’ “ Well, Sneezer,”’ said the Pantaloon, “they are commg up, and I must on. I feel that you and I won’t meet again; but I don’t see that we need howl like a couple of women over it.’ “It's the horrible way of parting that does me up,’ said the Sneezer. “Now, 15 you were going to die a natural death— “ What do you call a natural death for such as you ond me?” interposed with a face of salfron- colour ; the Pantaloon. “ Isn’t it something in the way of a rope, and a parson, and a bell tolling ?”’ ‘““T suppose itis,’ replied the Sneezer, “but it isn’t a thing to talk about.” “ Tve Aba with it,” said the#Panta- loon. ‘* Good-bye.” “JT think, if you don’t mind,” said the Sneezer, hesitating, “that we will shake hands.”’ The Pantaloon put out his, and their hands met. There was no warmth in the grasp, but the Sneezer was as gentle as 1f he were touching the hand of adying man. Then the Pantaloon left him, and hurried away to the forest. Not once did he look back, although ere long he heard faint shouts after him. On reaching the wood, he plunged in -and hurried on until he reached a spot GONG ooo (Cc gs) Co