Lady Evelyn — page 200: what you’re looking at

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

WA } Ws all — ago—the slave and tool of the other greater villain.” ‘No, sir—no, my lord—there you are out. He is not the tool of Gerald Desmond. He served that gentleman’s dirty purposes; and when his work was done, got kicked, like a dog, out of his way. He was sent to Norfolk Island for fifteen years for some of his devil’s tricks, and his time was up a year or so ago. When he returned, a broken-down beggar, my Lord Clontarf’s alms were the horsewhip and the horse-pond. I had a letter some months ago, from home—from one Tim McCarty, an old friend of mine that keeps a public-house, and he told me Morgan was at his place a week or so before he wrote. He was blind drunk, and swearing vengeance against Gerald Desmond. ““T could tear him down from his high estate, if I choose,’ says he, ‘and I will, too—the liar and murderer! I wish Lord Rory were alive to-day. I’d soon tell him who drowned Kathleen O’ Neal—ay, if they hung me for it an hour after! I'd hang willingly, so that they strung him up, too!’ ‘Tim and the rest,’’ Mike continued, “set all this down. for drunken blather; but you and I know better. Go back, Lord Rory; give everything up, find out Morgan, and make him turn queen’s evidence. You'll get your own, and Gerald Desmond will get his own—a hempen halter !”’ There was dead silence. The face of Colonel Drum- mond had grown very pale and grave. | : “You will go, Lord Rory?” Mike urged in an agony of suspense. The man who called himself Robert Drummond turned his strong, deep eyes upon that beseeching face. “T will go, Mike,” he said, slowly. “You are right. My honor must be vindicated, if there be any earthly The Last Service of the Red Queen. I9 3 he still lives, he is doubtless what he was twenty years — 7 =~ i A vot Oe Pa eG a Wier Be OAge | | ee te ." % ©. eee Pee tee BD oe eet a) Ao oe A ~~ Py! i ae Led lel POP aA nd ’ ~~ Be? ere ¥e® TS ta ge lata eee ee Ey ON rhe | tae ; i= 4 A : He Dl aa Oe ee rye 5 J a ‘ Oy, Sy ae : n 5 OWT eee Me be 9 Kk See, Pir = aM Ls Sal PY nthe — Vad tenes Ye Fr SW arc f eT Ra * ’ wy ee Fj . if - ¥ : 4 , - ’ yy a 7 h.. “ ‘ fre but tae, © Me ;oe* - ™« - f way. If what you say be true, and [ do not doubt it, a the way is open at last. I will go. I will find William Morgan, if he is above ground, and wring the truth from him. They will hardly recognize the sunburned American colonel as the beardless young lordling, drowned twenty years ago in Wicklow Bay,” with his - thoughtful smile. “And if they do, it will go hard with _