At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

aa et i a el I ee me | m4 — “ 2+ | i, a" jp _ | a ie bre ae | +4, 4 =v; eo al * Let) Sa. ye = -, ' . ” «f ‘ . * ‘ - - - . eats = A “= «< ” 52 she ‘ 14 AT A GIRL'S MERCY. brave face and frank eyes lifted to his, though she knew full well she was at his mercy. ‘‘Sir, it is but a poor offering I can make you. Some paltry dollars, perhaps, and afew jewels that are worth more to me as gifts than they could be to you, because the most and best of my jewels, thank Heaven, I sent to the city yesterday to the safety vaults. But such as I have here I give to you. Take them, take them freely. I would not have you stain your manhood with the guilt of robbing a defenseless girl.’’ It was a daring speech, and she knew it, but she must find some vent for her bitter scorn of the man. He felt the hot blood rush to his cheeks, and his eyes were blazing with wrath and. unconquerable - admiration for the girl, who, at his mercy, dared show her spirit in such words as these, words that he wondered afterward he did not strike her down for uttering. He touched the revolver impressively, and his lips grew white as the blood surged from his face around his heart. ' “My fair maiden is bold,”’ he said, ‘‘and gra- cious,’’ a metallic ring in his voice. ‘‘But I must hasten her movements, or dawn will find me still race Nere, ’’ She shrugged her round shoulders contemptuously — as she crossed the room to her dressing-case. ‘Evil lurks in darkness; the wicked fear the light,’ she said, lightly. ‘‘Only the wicked, sir.’ He made a swift movement, as though he would grasp her arm—the round white arm, from which the loose lace sleeve fell back as she reached for the key of her jewel-case that hung on a bracket near— his teeth ground together in sudden fury. But he- did not touch her. He stood for a moment as though Cc Ol com ck boo I cS. tg PAY evn Fn!