ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Penny Dreadfuls, 1901 · page 232 of 324

D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 232: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 232: Penny Dreadfuls, 1901

A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1901. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

| ( | | A Talk Over Sword Blades. 219 “T ask your pardon, sir, but I have no regards for you. I am looking at the person whom I should see all the more plainly if you were not very much in the way!” ‘In that case, you had better change to a better point of view—at a distance—don’t stint yourself in the matter of distance!” Slowly retreating, as the woman on his arm suggested by a gentle tugging, the musketeer covered her with his weapon. The two at sword’s point saw nothing, but she noticed that a door in the house front was opening warily. “T am exceedingly sorry,” rejoined the Portuguese, “but it is not in my power to fulfill your desires.” Executing a flourish which threw the other blade out of the line, the Frenchman responded: “How is that P” ‘Because, when a lady is concerned, I am _ near- sighted, and I never yet knew any reason why—though the Reasoner carries a sword—to keep my distance!” “For what reasons should you scrutinize a lady?” “T am dying of curiosity!’ “T have heard of persons who thought they would die of curiosity,” the musketeer dryly answered, “but, really, they died of something else! Say, an injection of cold iron !” Upon which he parried a dextrous lunge of the Span- ish school and eclectically returned it with a thrust in the Italian school, which forced the other to leap back with celerity or he would have had his sleeve pinned to his arm. “Like the monarch who saturated himself with poisons,” said the native, in the same tone of banter, “I may believe myself ironproof, for I have not gone un- scathed through your wars.” “Oh, to a soldier, a soldier’s frankness! Well, brother of the blade, this is my kinswoman!’ said the French- man. “Eh! are you sure?” “Quite!” “Any nearer than by our grandmother Eve “Much nearer and dearer than any other of her daugh- ters! Now, sir, that you know as much as you are en- ‘Y? CORNICE LOOOKS (CO)