Octavia's Pride; or, The Missing Witness — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

‘4 . 4 ; ; 4 Toes f ie ye) is Sia ies go 8 y ty ge tg lf et Id. . "BRA Me pp car an PF a3 vr Aavne or — . Sol Fg * he" i a8 re * vt 1 Mes % SY hie re) 4. ’ gs Suen pie br idttig ome : $i aoe 7) eae Pam cad fee Oe er ear FO Are e834 fia. eink : hy OR: fatty Se. MASS ty “t=. ane aes, Wie adeias 5 . * ar es iar 4; ep, es) sue ly SS aap P). af eee ere C8 | ce ; | i alk, 4 > ete 2 , =e ; tp: . LPL ee oe my ‘ é me) af a Be Fy 4 4 — ” y Uy, ous, a ee On 4 PY wa Oe e ft} 2 Oh P. tam - “ee * J OOTAVIA'S PRIDE , Sy A I trust you will find in it everything you desire; if not, my store is at your service.” As he spoke, the captain left the inner cabin, and went out through the other one, in which was the table for the under officers, and their berths. Will Yarrel took the key from his pocket and wees into the state-room. He pulled out the trunk, unlocked it hastily, and opened the lid. A suit of boy’s clothing met his eye at its first glance, It was entirely new. A bitter smile curled the lad’s lip as he flung it out upon the floor, and searched deeper, exam- ining every article with close scrutiny. There was everything needed for the toilet of a genteel young gentleman—abundance of clothing, a dressing-case, writing-desk, a table, book-rack filled with books, even a pair of worked slippers. Hyerything was new, unsoiled, fresh from the dealer’s shop. Will Yarrel removed every article from the trunk, litter- ing the floor around him. When he came to a common, rather clumsy, and well-worn Bible, he uttered an exclama- tion of joy, and took it fondly in his hands. But his eye flashed indignantly as he opened the leather cover. The blank leaves had been ruthlessly torn away. ‘* My father’s handwriting—all that I possessed as a me- mento of my mother’s married life—taken away from me! Shameful! cruel! wicked!” ejaculated he. And then the hand dropped listlessly over the Bible, and the great, mournful eyes deepened to the blackness of min- gled terror and melancholy. “What is this mystery that has followed me ever since 1 : have been able to notice and realize?” murmured he. ‘““Why can I not pierce it, seize upon its meaning? How fondly I have dreamed over it! have fancied that my locket cComicboo (he aPiitg = ult ‘” if y NU ee CS €O