Beautiful Rienzi; or, The Secret Vendetta — page 242: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. 235 Her beautiful face grew pale and despairing. She took my hand and suddenly led me in. We were in a low, darkened room, in which at first I could distinguish nothing. Gradually the different objects grew beneath my gaze. Two windows were covered with a heavy curtain, which effectually shut out the light. <A thick heavy Persian carpet was spread on the surging and decayed floor; along, black couch extended at one end of the narrow chamber. ‘There was no other furniture. The figure, substance, or shadow—I scarce at first could tell, was gliding back and forward along the white wall, with a step as soundless as the cloud which sweeps between the sun and the furrowing grain. ‘The hands are interwoven, and the pensile fingers clasp each other like slender silver serpents; the face no more is shrouded, no more is false, it hides beneath no-cunning disguise. ‘The eyes flash in the dark, and show their splendor, and their dread prophecy of ruin; the face is small and deadly, with pride unconquerable in the dominant brow and quivering nostril. Oh, a beautiful face, all marred by the sparks of hell! The fair, round throat swells and heaves like the gorge of a serpent, with the dumb fury that seems to possess the heart. She passes to and fro with quick and desperate energy, heedless of those who look upon her. “This,” said my sister, turning her calm, an gelic face to me—<< this is the secret cord that draws me from you. This .- is my mother—my true mother; and she is sick, and in- sane, and in danger for past crimes; and a daughter’s duty isto fly to her andguard her.” «Ah, me! what dreary deceit is this?” “It is a dreary truth, my own Ivanilla. For this I have - sent for you, that you might understand the mene of the duty that God has given me. I feared that 1 must go away with what I longed to say unspoken; but, when I came here, I found her in this state, from past excitement. I dared to run all risks, and induce her servant to go and fetch you. I might have written, but I have been weak; 1 could not live without a farewell; and you, my darling, I knew you would rather come than read the outpourings of a heart of sorrow by the cold medium of paper. And that which I have to say—ah! how could I whisper it without your hand clasped in mine?” cComicbooks: (ef)