The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 282: what you’re looking at

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

‘THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. — 279 * Quilty!” Sternholde drew in his breath with a strange, rigorous sort of sound, and the judge put the black cap upon his head, briefly pronouncing sentence of death upon the unhappy man, whose career of crime seemed at last about to be brought to a close by his death upon a scaffold. | CHAPTER XLIX. IN another half hour, Sternholde occupied one of the con- demned cells of Newgate. The rapid alternation of adventure that had taken place, was now likely to be brought to an end by one of those awful catastrophes which terminate the career of all great criminals, however long may have been their eareer of crime; and few could boast of a much greater or longer career than the condemned man, and niGhe more deserving of his doom. Sternholde sat dumb and motionless. He seemed stunned. and yet he was not the man to be bowed down by difficulties of any kind. Danger of the most imminent character be had faced, and even then he was not the man to sink in weak re- pinings and tearful repentances; he could not do that. He sat for some time thinking of the past, and revolving in his mind what prospect there was of escaping the doom that awaited him so very nearly. He sat, and his dark thoughts were revolving in his mind. He looked around the cell, and saw the bare walls and the small barred windows. There was nothing in the whole place that gave any hopes; and then he looked at his feéters, as if in utter despair at what seemed insurmountable difficulties. Sternholde heard the steps of the jailer as he neared the cell for some purpose or other. He doubted not but that he,was coming there to him for the purpose of inquiring what he wanted. He guessed rightly—it was the turnkey.- He came to the door, and he could hear the key placed in the lock—the heavy bolts turned, and then the door opened softly upon its hinges, and the turnkey entered. . ‘* Well,” said the turnkey, ‘‘do you want anything ?” ‘‘ Nothing.” said Sternholde. ‘*T come to tell you our chaplain will be here in a few minutes. to do what he can for you.” Sternholde took no notice of the communication whatever, but sat on the bench, with his eyes fixed upon the stone walls of his prison; and the turnkey, after a few moments, which he spent gazing at the prisoner, retraced his steps muttering as he- shut the door: ‘* He seems rather stunned—but that is nothing new—they are: often so, and he is no exception. A St. Anthony’s tippet don’t. agree with bis courage or his constitution.” | Sternhoide. again left to himself, appeared to be no better or: different than he was before. He still fixed his eyes upon the wall, and looked long and steadfastly there, but i¢ was evident comicbooks. com