Penny Dreadfuls, 1899 · page 101 of 295
Lady Evelyn — page 101: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1899. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
rm f* - at age ~ $4 . “-* a Pa e i Bye’ Rh ‘ fF — er ” ; ow Lee + oe rs. eS me 4 See VES ay CO OF » ~~ ee “a S . Lb vl ‘ b Ae 4 - : 7 - | Ye ee Pe ts 2 SE 2 oe ; 5 . P| ’ » ‘se a - - Urs - 4 ‘ . 2 - WGA oe os Rather Rsnientey I’ll go to Warbeck Hall, my lady ; and you won’t harm a poor chap because he attacked you in his desperation ?” “Harm you!” The lovely violet eyes looked at him in ‘proud surprise. “J have said I will assist you. Go!” | The man slunk backward, gazing with glistening eyes upon the rich ring. As he turned it over, the name inside struck his eye; the next instant a loud cry of fear, rage, surprise rang out. With that cry he was back before her, looking up in the proud, pale face, with a wolfish glare in his haggard eyes. “The name inside the ring!” he cried, breathlessly— “the name! Is it your name, my lady?” “It is my name, of course,’ was_the haughty answer. “What is my name to your” “What do you mean, you rascal?’ exclaimed the gen- -tleman. “Be off with you this instant! Have you not annoyed the lady enough already? Madame, the rain will fall in torrents directly. We must make for some place of shelter at once. | The lady looked around over the spreading plain and lonely high-road, with a faint smile. | “Shelter! The woodland is yonder, certainly; but the woodland is scarcely the safest place in this lightning. - There is nothing for it but to ride homeward and brave -a drenching. How far is it, sir, to Warbeck Hall?” “Fight miles at least; altogether too far for you in this downpour. Look! there is smoke ascending yonder among the trees. ‘There may be a house, a hut, a habita- tion of some sort. Let us make for it at once.” She bowed her head and dashed forward. Flash after flash of lightning olayet above them now. ‘The crashing of the thunder was deafening, and the rain literally fell in torrents. The September afternoon was dark almost as night. Their horses made the woodland in five min- utes. The smoke still feebly ascended; it arose from a camp-fire almost quenched in the plash of the rain. No house presented itself; instead, three or four primitive tents and inverted wagons told at a glance what the place was. “A gypsy encampment, by Cesta !’ cried Trevan- “nance. ‘Well, better that than the open plain in this del- uge. Here, my man, we want shelter under os canvas Tins eee and I—until the storm blows « over.’ See | ~~ « ‘ ‘ : P > , **% ' « . ‘ at 7 > 4 4 ° i, , ¥FUIN oa? f J ; art RACs wa : . A > » 7 BTW me pts. eae me | y be Vs cae a : 1a ad rae ' : ‘ « : were | - fa ‘ 4 Le sae 5°" ee At thd f Tee We bh Vie © 0g ot oi ak 79 aid pth Otay Nae SRY ac be bay Ae OT Al