At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

" =< Ma Pak Ns FF Che SP : = Cmte . ' ~ . =. t ” at” a - = ™ - ——~ | Ree - - 76 AT A GIRL’S MERCY, | under their weight as they crept along. It was on the very edge of the camp; a sentinel was pacing back and forth at one side of the field; he stopped instantly on hearing the warning sound. He stood with rifle ready, and listened; nothing. He peered here and there and everywhere in the darkness that the flickering camp-fire only made more dense; nothing. The wind sighed and sobbed out from the trees, and trembled among the ribbons of the corn, and passed him, brushing his face and hair like a chostly thing; the mist hung lower through the tree- boughs, and fell around the corn like a veil. Noth- ing! He resumed his march, ever and anon glanc- ing back at the field as he passed out of earshot, as though not convinced that all was right. The fugitives crouched down among the corn, lis- tening, listening, waiting, not daring to move lest at any moment a hand be laid upon them in the dark- ness. Then silence again, andthe man arose slowly on his hands and peered out toward the camp through the waving corn-ribbons. The sentinel was moving slowly away, the distant flash of the fire - touching the steel of his rifle into a gleaming streak of light. Jim drew himself up to his knees, still with his face toward the camp, and once more took up the stealthy march on his hands and knees, fol- lowed by those behind, feeling carefully for the dry stalks, and putting them to one side; silently, noise- lessly creeping down to the reeds and the river. Crunch, crunch; crackle, crackle, crus-s-sh! The sentinel was once more pacing along beside the field, and again he paused to listen. Dead si- lence, save for the stirring of the wind now and then. He moved a few steps nearer and stopped, his head bent forward, peering out ahead of him with an comicbooks.co