Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. — 128 Crag’s Brook, cannot have been caught by Cecil Beaumont’s hand in his fall over the bridge, as it 1s covered with smoke, oily dirt, and blood. On the contrary, that sleeve must have been in the midst of the railway accident, where the explosion of the engine took place. I have no doubt that Leander Rosecraft, when the catastrophe occurred, grasped the arm of the ‘lady nearest him in the carriage, and brought with him a part of the dress which remained in the death-clutch of the poor, battered, mutilated body. I think we have proved, gentlemen of the Jury, that Miss Rienzi did not commit murder on the body which was buried under the name of Cecil Beaumont. I propose now to show forth that she did not commit murder at all; that the body of the real Cecil Beaumont was not dead, and that Miss Rienzi has been foully conspired against, with intent to make the law punish her for a crime she did not commit. I have to ask a few more questions of this witness. Madam, relate what you saw three nights ago on the wharf, as you were waiting the arrival of a passenger in the English steamer.” ‘‘And remember, madam, you are upon your cath,” in- terposed Mr. Bently, getting up and facing me. This interruption confused me; I commenced, but so tremulously that a murmur rose from all parts of the house, as : “« Speak out! Can’t hear!” ‘Take time—don’t be afraid,” said the judge, mildly. ‘‘You were sitting alone in your father’s carriage?” began Mr. Speingle. ‘“‘And while I waited afew minutes for papa and mam- ma ‘<Stop, stop!” cried Mr. Bently, in an irritating manner, ‘“‘at what hour? It seems to me that you and Brother Speingle are making it up between you.” The lawyer's insolence brought back my courage. “Tt was half-past eight when we drew up beneath the signal lamp,” I said, steadily, ‘‘and my father alighted and went on board the steamer, leaving me sitting in the car- riage, while the driver occupied the box.” «Ah! but I thought your friend, Speingle, said you were alone!” “Sir!” I exclaimed, flushing haughtily, “ how often CORNUCG OOO S (©)