Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 339 of 394
The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 339: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1850. 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.
THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, \ w Wecckory ee \ ' NV } HiT | iy ) fj Oe ga ng —— , \ — = = SS / ) | eRe A) BALIN Oe = y IN ~ e * MW) f! iii ier ayetiti ea tihith ling ed | * i ‘i, , " Bila. | m We (0M ‘ i) ahsiiliyt y™ { i’ elie i Ht ( ; a | | mT | 1 . Mh «fs iba mid Wh iil | it til a iL ’ "| ii! h! iff Caine ii) tat hoa } Uy, Ve SMO WE Zi Fa Zz = / ; A : i ' ; ’ Priil ij ' ‘ ’ en we 7 pa — “> was the work ofan instant. Rose washalf fainting | “My husband! spare him, Walter! have pity, and ‘on a chair, and Faddle, as cool and impudent as ever, was standing near her. “ Walter!” exclaimed the unhappy woman; “hea witness of this outrage!” “Young Calico, by Venus!” sneered the libertine; “it seems you expected a more agreeable visitor.” _ Atthis moment Wilmott, who had heard the noise, entered the room. The sight of his wife’s former lover Stung him almost to madness, for he was no less jea- lous than dissipated. “Leave the’ room, fellow!” he said, “ nor intrude your presence upon gentlemen!” **Gentlemen!” repeated the young man, with a laugh, “gentlemen! This scorn to him who holds within his hand the proof which brands you with a felon’s name—this forgery upon your uncle!” He held up the fatal paper as he spoke. Rose was bunderstruck, and her guilty husband so overwhelmed hat even his rival pitied his shame and confusion. “Rose,” he added, “was it for this that I was rificed — rejected for a cur, a degraded felon, itute alike of courage and of honour?” 43 not vengeance!” “ Vengeance— vengeance npon thee, poor broken flower! yes—I will have revenge, such as shail fall like molten fire upon his head—eat like a serpent’s tooth within his brain. Such is the vengeance of Rose—of Walter Maynard.” With these words the unhappy lover tore the fearful paper into a hundred fragments, cast them at the feet of the half-fainting Rose, and rushed from the house more like a madman than a reasonable being ; it was hours before he could collect sufficient firmness to return to his employment; he had trea- sured up his secret grief within his heart till it over- flowed at last. “That young man knows but little of the world,” thought Faddle to himself, as he reflected on the different use he weuld have made of the paper, had accident placed it in his possession. Poor Rose, over- come by her feelings, and the regret which the noble conduct of Walter had awakened, cast a look of min- gled despair and horror at her husband, and rushed from the room to indulge her tears in solitude and silence, > (EO) Oni FO