Penny Dreadfuls, 1888 · page 239 of 284
Octavia's Pride; or, The Missing Witness — page 239: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1888. 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.
a LJ bi te 7S ‘ale ll? & ee we “< 02 a> &- °? Ss & Ae ¢ Sey Bs be Be : - * 3 Pay ro AY ead oT. ¢ : ¥ a - be 3s me mise > * . ; * é Peay arceeere Ay eR eLee SEER eS Jr Pe aa OM Fi.) . PP) riers ie -As Ta) aon Fee AeA YR Pre Ce pares : ~ * . 4 . > FE, . ai i$ Bie! . = f ye” Wr, . vey f - OCTAVIA’S PRIDE. fx 229 ‘Took here, Mother Woodstock, what satan’s work have you been helping along? Who was that in the slouched 5 : ae : 7? : as: a og b, At, ; 4 cap, and high-collared cloak, who coaxed you into giving. my niece that nice cup of coffee—that coffee you took such pains to prepare. And what were you paid for helping along that pretended suicide, and the registered death of Mina Merle?” began he, the moment he entered the room where the boarding-house keeper sat looking over her newly returned basket of laundry linen. ‘Bless my heart, Mathew Merle! How you startle a body,” exclaimed Mrs. Woodstock, so completely taken by surprise that she could not control her features and looked the blank dismay she felt. <‘‘ Whatever do you mean?” ‘““Come, come, no blarney, woman, I know the whole story, about the taking of the girl to a ship, and all the rest. In fact [ve got the girl home again, and she is here in Eng- land, sound and well. Now what does it mean that I find her death registered according to your testimony and iden- tification ?” | Lhe great red hands of Mrs. Woodstock were fumbling over the clothes, and she bent her head down to the basket to get a moment’s time to think. But that was just what Mathew Merle meant she should not do. “Come, come,” said he. ‘I’m going up with my story to the police. I can tell them something about your drugging that coffee, and when poor Mina was helpless, taking her clothes to put on some poor arShGl and dressing her in boy's garments. I can tell “Good Heaven, Mathew Merle! you won’t give a body a chance to breathe! Why don’t you ask me in civil fashion, and maybe then I should tell you everything you want to know,” ventured the woman, in an insinuating tone. ‘Sit down, won’t you, and I’ll have in a mug of ale.” — £€J don’t want the ale, but [ am ons to hear the truth. Pe ha “ay 2 | hide Soe ¢ f. col Ne : gi eo ps mia Maa eae Ecomicbhoo + eee wa beth fut tt . i. wh AX Toa we ‘ : Y y ‘ ; 4 * <> ¢ : Sta % Z (® ‘2 ’ i) es . — , 3h -