The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 156: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 153 *¢ D——n!” he muttered; and then, looking from one way to the other, he seemed to have made up his mind, and darted out to escape by a sudden and desperate effort to rush through the persons, whoever they might be. In this he had to deal with men who were accustomed to surprises; and the mendicant had no sooner got into the pas- sage, than be found himself grappled by a stout, powerful man, who seized him by the throat, and from whom he could not free himself. ‘‘ Here, Bill, I’ve got one cove, as he was trying to make a dive and get out. Just come and put onthe darbies, The gentleman won't be quiet, though he knows he can’t get away. There, con- found you, if you won't take things more quietly, take that, and that, will you, and be cursed to you!” Immediately following this was heard a sound that indicated a bumping of heads against the wall in the passage. The other man spoken to now came, and the mendicant was secured by handcuffs, so that he could not get away. ‘“ Now we have you safe,” he said, ‘‘ we will examine the house, and see what you have been up to.” ‘*T have done nothing.” ‘‘Then you need not be under any alarm. You are safe enough, so don’t put yourself in a fume.” The mendicant certainly did seem to be taken unawares, and had lost his usual presence of mind in this instance; indeed, his whole faculties seemed to have received a shock. It was a sur- prise that had taken possession of his faculties, and from this he was but slowly recovering toa full consciousness that he was laced in the last position that he could with safety to his life en- joy; he therefore made use of the only means of escape that sug- gested itself to him, and this, unfortunately for him, had failed. “‘Come, bring him into the room; but one can guard him now, for he has not the use of his hands.” They now entered the place; the room in which the stranger had been cruelly and brutally murdered. The first man who entered slipped as his foot stepped into a pool of blood. ‘* Hilloa, Jem, what’s the matter ?” ‘‘Hang me if I know, but I tumbled over something soft, and down I came.” ‘Why, here’s the dend body!” “Tt is hardly cold yet, poor wretch; how savage and brutal must this fellow be.” ‘‘T never injured that man.” “Ts not killing an injury ?” ‘* Yes, but I never killed him.” ‘* Who did ?” “T don’t know.” ‘¢ Ah, that’s all very well. Well, well, you will have an op- rtunity of trying to make the beak believe all that—I don’t believe a word of it.” ‘‘ There’s one that can clear me; she well knows I am inno- cent. Mabel, say I am innocent.” comicbooks. com