The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 214: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 211 I suppose there’s some prize money for them as finds out Miss Mabel ?” Captain Morton looked steadfastly at the weather-beaten countenance of his follower, as he said, —“ Rafferty, if you know anything of where Mabel is, it is a piece of needless cruelty to keep it from me.” ‘‘ Faith, sir, then I don’t know.” ‘‘Then what made you ask such a question, Rafferty, as that which just came from your lips?” “e Only for information, sir. Your honor may depend that it ain’t long Rafferty Brolickboneg shall know anything of where Miss Mabel is, but he’ll tell it to you.” ‘Well, well, Rafferty, I feel sure of that. Always recollect that mystery defeats itself. There is the amount of money you require; and remember, Rafferty, what a dreadful piece of bad management you made of hiding in the tree, instead of letting me know that Mabel was to be in such danger on the banks of the lake into which you fell, and——” ‘‘There now, aisy, sir, again; faith, then, don’t I know all about that same? Does your honor think I forget it? By the mass and the holy poker, no; don't be after taking up a poor fellow’s._ misfortunes, sir, and tying them up in a bundle to throw them whack in his eye.” Away went Rafferty; but if the truth must be told, Rafferty had a sort of plot of his own, which he did hope would lead to some good resulus, Since that unfortunate piece of cleverness of his which had re- sulted in a good ducking to himself, and in poor Mabel being placed in the power of the desperate character, from whom she had so great a difficulty in rescuing herself, poor Rafferty had been upon the tenter-hooks of impatience to do something which should redeem that error, and show that he was not such a bad schemer as such an untoward event would seem to proclaim him to be. Of course, that something which he wanted to do was to recover Mabel if he could, and from the moment that he set foot in London, he had been unceasing in his ‘inquiries concerning her. These inquiries he conducted in a very strange manner, for he would walk along the streets, looking up at the people’s names over their shop doors till he saw an Irish one, when in he would walk, with all the assurance incidental to his nation, and exclaiming,—‘‘The top of the morning to you,” or, ‘‘it’s a mighty fine day,” he seldom failed to get into a long couversa- tion. Then before he left, he took an opportunity of saying: ‘*Do you happen to know a swate young creature of a young lady, anyway, that’s lost and don’t know where to find herself? because if you do, tell me, and I'll find her for herself, the swate creature.” Everybody answered in the negative, until one day he stepped into a milk-shop, which bore above its door the inviting name Dermott. ‘‘Here’s a mercy,” said Rafferty; ‘‘a Dermott! och, murder; T must go in and knock him down, or something. The Der- comicbooks. com