Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 358: what you’re looking at

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

. JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE i oil | i ty | | nN Uy \ { 7 — fl) — _ 4) “f/f MT <n TINT | il NU She gave me her hand: I pressed it with friendly warmth—and snatching up the letter and the purse, I hurried from the room, deeply affected at all that had taken place, and not least so by this parting scene. I hurried up to my chamber—packed a carpet- bag with such necessaries as I should require— and, without seeking an interview with Sir Mat- thew Heseltine, jumped into the gig which was in readiness to take me across to Kendal. The horse was a good one—the groom who drove, made the animal speed along; and in a quarter of an hour we entered the town. It was now six o’clock in the evening; and I learnt that in half-an-hour there would be a coach which would take me a considerable distance on my way. I secured a place inside, and thus commenced my journey to the metropolis, from which I had now been ab- 44, _—- es se 345 a MEMOIRS CF A MAN-SERVANT., ie Vie | \ ~ YY), ‘ Jt we WM yi a ‘ Ay i AY Ah Nu ll sent ever since I was embarked by the iniquity of Mr, Lanover on board an emigrant-ship at Black- wail, CHAPTER LXIV. THE ECCLESTONS. YES—it was about twenty months since I was thus packed off from the metropolis on board the ill- fated vessel which was doomed to swell the number of those that had gone down to the insatiate depths of the Goodwin Sands; and it was almost a year since I had fled from Mr. Lanover’s presence at the hotel in Perth. The image of the dreadful humpback had frequently haunted me like the = = a TT Th TTT CORNICLOO@ () <S (Cc ©) A IS teers ee i