The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 915 knocked and rang so violently at the door. I cannot think what has become of your friends.” ‘*No one then has come from the country to me?—no letter— no communications of any sort? Alas! alas! what will become of me ?” ‘*Nay, do not despair. It is odd, certainly, that now two posts should have elapsed, and no sort of notice been taken of the magistrate’s communications, and that is what annoys him, and I have no doubt has unsettled him a good deal.” ‘* Well, Iam innocent of that neglect.” ‘* Yes; but you know an angry man don’t reason. But now, tell me; for I want to go back to him prepared with evidence upon the point; can you suggest any mode of proof of there be- ing such a person as Captain Morton, and such a place as Mor- ton Hall, without the necessity of some one actually going into the country to find out ?”’ ‘‘T really know not.” ““The magistrate says that he has looked through the army list, and the only officer of the name of Morton is now in Canada.” ‘‘Captain Morton is out of the army now. He fought at Waterloo, as I have often heard, and after that memorable bat- tle retired from the army.” ‘Well, that is something. At the Horse Guards all that can be proved, or disproved, from authentic sources of information; so do you rest contented for the present. while I go to makesuch inquiries. I will be myself resporaiule for you, so do not go out of the house, in case you should be wanted. You cannot tell, you know, what may have happened since you came away from Morton Hall. The family may have left it, o) a thousand things may have occurred to hinder Captain Morton from receiving your note sent him by the magistrate.” ‘Yes, yes; most certainly.” ‘¢So you should console yourself with the thought that all will be well at last, as I have no doubt it will; and in the mean- time, all the exertions of the police will be directed to a discovery of the hiding-place of the man whom you have declared innocent of one crime, but accused of another.” ‘‘ When—oh, when will fate cease from persecuting me ?” ‘““Come, come, you take things too seriously .” ‘* Yes,” half screamed Mrs. Jenkins; “she wants a adviser. pl ae a sympathizing indiwidual. Look at me—look at me, say!’ : ‘* As far as I am concerned,” said Long, “ it cannot, of course, make the smallest difference, and Miss Morton may tell you or not tell you, Mrs. Jenkins, what it is that now harasses her so much. If she does, I should say that you ought to give the most solemn pledge of secrecy.” “Tl pledge everything,” said Mrs, Jenkins. ‘‘ Nay, nay, you must excuse me—indeed you must,” remarked Mabel. ‘I am quite unequal to the task of entering into a his- tory of all I bave suffered, and of all I now suffer. Icannot, un- jess some strong and urgent necessity arise, do so; and therefore, comicbooks. com