The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 217: what you’re looking at

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

214 THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. ‘Yes; I'll tell her. At twelve, mind, and you kick at the area rails.” h *T will, I will. Was he a downright ugly chap that brought er?” ‘‘Ugly? I never saw in all my life an uglier.” ‘*That’s him, then. Did he make out he was her father too, the vagabond ?” ‘*Oh, yes, and T believe he is, too, or else our people, I don’t suppose, would have took her in as they have, you know.” ‘*Then I can tell you he isn’t. He is only a thief of the world; _I know him well. He's no more her father than you are. But that’s no matter now; [ll come at twelve o'clock and givea kick at the rails; and mind you have the young swate creature ready now.” ‘*QOh, there's no fear of that.” ‘* Adoo! then, a8 we says on the continent, where we whacked the French. Hurrah for the Brolickbones,” CHAPTER XULI. RAFFERTY thought it most remarkably cunning to keep this affair a profound secret from Captain Morton. The fact was, that he had never completely got over in his mind, however it might be excused by others, the disgrace of being so completely at fault, as he had been on the evening of the abduction of Mabel from Morton Hall. That he, an old campaigner, and cer- tainly one who ought to have known better, should have al- luwed himself to be so, as it were, duped, was one of those things that got altogether the better of that personal vanity which, in common with his countrymen, he possessed to no smail extent. But now he flattered himself he had found an opportunity of redeeming the past, and of hearing that, if he had committed an error, that, to use his own words, he ‘‘ was the boy to put it all right again.” What a triumph it would be to him to be able to bring Mabel back in safety to the arms of those who were so anxious to re- ceive her, and who for so long bad been in such great distress, solely occasioned by her absence from among them. “Then,” he thought, “they will say something, I rather think, to Rafferty.” In these pleasant anticipations he passed his time until the hour of appointment had very nearly come—that hour at which he was to go and kick at the area rails, and have the pleasure of rescuing Mabel from her state of bondage. At about half-past eleven Rafferty was on-the spot, and most anxiously did he wait until twelve should strike from a church clock which was in the immediate vicinity, so that he should then, without being too much beforehand, and so perhaps risk- ing the success of the scheme, be fully entitled to kick away at the area rails to his heart's content. ; ‘Oh, the darlint!” he said; ‘‘when she only once sees my face, won't she be delighted! Och, murder! this will be a pleas- comicbooks. com