Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

12 =. REYNOLDS’ WORKS “I thank you, mademoiselle,” replied William, bowing coldly and distantly, ‘‘ but I shall not be enabled to avail myself of your polite invitation.”’ The dark eyes of Emily Archer flashed with sudden fires, her countenance became crimson, she bit her lip, and was evidently about to give utterance to some angry ejaculation, for she was deeply mortified, but restraining herself, she passed on without saying a word, flouncing indignantly out of the cottage, followed by the soubrette, who turned up her nose with a half-grimace at both Deveril and Mr. Gunthorpe as she whisked by them. “Ah! they be London folks, I see,’’ said the old woman. “They give their gold, but they also give theirselves airs.’’ The cider was now produced. Mr. Gunthorpe and Dev- eril each took a glass, and pronounced it excellent. “ T wonder what that woman and her servant can be doin out here at such a time in the evening,” observed Mr. Gun- thorpe to our hero. “ It’S very strange, is it not? But didn’t she say she was acquainted with Lord Saxondale? Perhaps she has come after him. However, it’s no business of ours.’’ Then turning to the peasant woman, he said, “You behaved most kindly to my friend here on a recent occasion, and though I have no doubt he testified his grati- tude, yet you must permit me to show mine on his behalf.” With these words Mr. Gunthorpe put five sovereigns upon the table, and then hurried out of the cottage, accompanied by William Deveril, but followed to the door by the old woman, her son, and her daughter, who all three poured forth their most heartfelt gratitude for this proof of generosity. And true generosity it was, — the money being given from motives of the purest kindness, very different indeed from the ostentation which had ere now accompanied the gift of Emily Archer. Mr. Gunthorpe and Deveril sped away from the cottage, and in a few minutes reached the bank of the river, where they were almost immediately joined by Chiffin the Cannibal, who was coming from the direction of Saxondale Castle. The ruffian had his club under his arm, and his hands thrust into the pockets of his great rough shaggy coat; his battered white hat was cocked a little on one side, and the blue smoke was curling up from the bowl of a short pipe which he held in his mouth. | Gomichboo cS (E(0)