The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

138 THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. Then the aoe would change, and she fancied she could see the Hall and its inmates after her forced departure—their sorrow and despair—their consternation; all tended to awaken in her breast those feelings of uneasiness and regret she lay there a prey to. Neither could she forget her present position, tle solitary con- finement she suffered, and the wretched mode of existence she was now compelled to endure. She was lying thus occupied in utter darkness, and hours had elapsed since she had seen the last rays of the setting sun—those few rays which came in at the top of the window—when she thought she heard some one pass along thestreet and stand near the door. _ : She paused for some moments in silent attention, listening to ascertain whether any sound took place that indicated a return of the mendicant. Hark! what sounds are those ?—they are human feet ascending the door-steps. She could distinctly hear them, and count them, and then all was still again. What could this mean? she asked herself. It was not the mendicant—of that she was certain. It might be some one who was desirous of escaping the sudden pelting of the storm, which raged without with redoubled fury. The footsteps are heard descending, and leave the doorway ;— anon, there seemed to come on the night air a clear but low whistle, which was three times repeated. Then again all was still—no sound met her ear, save such as the storm occasioned. They were palpable enough, and were frequent; but yet they were accountable, but not so the whistle. What could it mean? No good. Some villainy was afloat; but what was it? Alas! poor Mabel could but lie there and fear the worst, and imagine all sorts of things; but at the same time she knew noth- ing; and hence her fears were awakened by all the vague con- ceptions of her mind about something terrible. Again the low whistle was sounded, and then another was heard in the d¢is- tance, and then an approach of- some other persons toward the spot. This might be the mendicant, she thought; but why he, who had been so cautious as to conceal his abode from every one. and, even to prevent his being followed, had adopted sev- eral devices—why he should act thus she could not tell; but then, she could not understand his motives, and, therefore, could not judge what might be his acts. She listened again, and thought, as she lay there, she could distinguish more than two, if not more than three persons at the door. There was a shuf- fling of feet for several seconds, and some bungling attempts at the key-bole. She sat up in the bed, much terrified at, the thought that sev- eral men were about to be brought into the house at such an hour, and probably they were in liquor. for the key was more than once tried, and vet they could not open the door. These were moments of great uneasiness to her. and she sat up listening with almost painful acuteness. The door was again tried unsuccessfully; but. then, again, it yielded to repeated at- comicbooks. com