The Illegal Marriage — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

136 THE ILLEGAL MARRIAGE. Morgan, and feared that even an allusion to her guilt might give him pain. “Tt is, indeed,” Guerry remarked, as he took the money from the cashier’s hand. “T suppose you will remain at Echaconnee for the present, Mr. Guerry—are you engaged in this case?” “T shall probably be the junior counsel,” he re- marked, and, not desiring to prolong the interview, hastened to say good-day. “IT can appreciate his delicacy,” the merchant thought, as Alfred left the house. “It is a dreadful position for a young fellow like him.” Fortune had favored him. Busily engaged in trying to clear Cecy Morgan, it might be weeks before Stannard could find out the sum that had been drawn upon his order, and meantime Alfred hoped to restore it. How this was to be done he had no definite idea; but there was no help for it now, and he must carry himself boldly to the end. In truth, so intent was he upon this one hope of safety which now presented itself, that his mind would not dwell upon the future. With the price of safety in his pocket, Alfred Guerry rode away from the city, and at nightfall, stood in the Echaconnee woods. > For some time he waited, giving at intervals the ‘ signals which old Hawks had taught him, but without eliciting response. Night was fast coming on. Turning to the old pine, beneath which he had before met Hawks, Guerry saw that it had been blazed afresh, and fancied that there was a signal upon the white sur- face. Striking a match, Guerry looked at the blaze, and saw these words written upon the wood, in pencil, and by a hand that he knew too well. “B. swamp, dry-bridge, R. 25 paces cypress blazed, 50 paces—C. log. Sig.” Transferring this to his note-book, Guerry effaced the letters with his knife, and started for the Echa- connee swamp. 3 It was some two miles to the dry-bridge, but he GComicbooks com i