At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

52 AT A GIRT’S MERCY. CHAPTER V. A GLIMMER OF HOPE. A quiet moonlight evening in the heart of Vir- gvinia; a dark-eyed, dark-skinned girl sat alone at the wide east window in the kitchen at the Manse, set in the midst of its pines, with the odorous winds stealing stealthily through the faintly stirring boughs. . The hour was late, and the girl alone, vet so busy with thoughts that she never felt the silence of the shadowy room, in which the only lght was from the golden moon sailing up the open space between the trees, softly touching the lifted dark face with its wide, pathetic eyes. Presently the door opened noiselessly, but a subtle sense of excitement entered the room with the man who strode to the girl’s side. She arose, confronting him with a soft word of welcome. “Tl thought you’d gone long ’go, Mr. Brown,’’ she said, lifting her large black eyes to the face near her, her nostrils dilating with the strange excite- ment that pervaded the room at his entrance. He was a tall young fellow, with the black eyes and hair and peculiar skin that at first might mislead one into thinking him a Spaniard, but when he spoke, his nationality was clearly that of -the girl. He laid his hand on her arm, not roughly, but with an air of command as he said, in a hushed voice: “Yo’ know ’t I couldn’ go ’thout yo’, Lola. Ef ‘twere to save my life, ‘stead o’ my freedom, yo’ know ’t I couldn’ go ’thout yo’. I’se tole yo’ of’en gt. Gcomicbooks.co a =