The Secret Shot; Or, The Rivals Of Misty Mount — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

“ Bless my sowl! She comes on to a mon like the ghost of a spirit,’ muttered the Irishman, looking really scared at the suddenness of her entrance. e “ What was the time you fixed for the raid on Misty Mount, Judy ?” askei Fash- don. “Tuesday night, fool!’ she exclaimed, contemptuously. “The time was fixed an hour ago. Every one heard it and agreed to it. You are drunk !” “T don’t care; I won’t be jawed by a nigger—take that !” . The drunkard raised his fist to strike her; but before the blow could descend, an alar- ming hiss, like that of a rattlesnake, arrested it, and Fashdon turned his head to behold Wandalo, crouched on one knee, with his long rifle leveled at his breast. “ Let the white man strike the Passion- Flower,” he hissed; “ = him strike her, and he dies!” « Pshaw !” said the Tory, returning to his seat with a forced laugh. “ Listen,” said Judith, calmly, and as ? nothing had happened; “listen, aud I will repeat the scheme to all of you, so that there may be no mistake. Three nights hence—on Tuesday night—at the middle hour, you are to meet in this caye, leaying your horses on the bridle-path below the ledge. You are then to approach the man- or and take the girl—by stealth if possible, by open force if necessary. She'll be safe enough here with Heartstead, Pl warrant.” “ Very good,” said one of the gang; “ but what will you do with her afterward? She can’t stay here always.” .““ That be her future husband’s look-out,” said the quadroon. “Away now!) The morning breaks.” They were loth to leave the bottles, but, one by one, they dropped away. Wandalo, also, at a look from the quadroon, ‘slunk into the dark entrance, and shé was left alone with Heartstead. He sat silént, with his heavy head supported by a listless hand, and his eyes closed; but it was evident, by his laboFed breathing g,.and the occasional working of his features, that he did not slumber. Judith silently seated herself op- posite him, and sat eyeing him; and, for a long time, they sat thus silently, observer and observed. There was something cold, deadly, frightful, in this subtle power, this magnetic will, which the once-beautiful wo- man exercised over those whom she would use or destroy. What could it be? The THE SECRET SHOT. hard, scheming nature of old Gleason, the passionate, moody spirit of Heartstead, the imperturbable, ferocious Indian—all were alike under her sway; and she a slaye— the despised, trampled creature of an out- cast.race. It was this—or something like it: Judith had but one idea, one pursuit, one hope, one aim in life: and that was, Ven- geance. She had long before bid adicu to joy; she was a stranger to the little plea- sures from which even the most wretched are seldom totally debarred. Was it won- derful that that wild glitter which shone upon the one desire, the monomania of her blind, suffering soul—her accomplished yen- geance—should have a charm, an only charm, for the fiefee creature? Upon the man who now sat before her she looked as upon a mere instrument to attain her own ends. Nof an atom of pity for his wretch- edness entered the iron of her being. Per- haps she would crush him when his useful- ness was gone. He was of the race which had trampled her down—down. Had she lived in our own times, she would, perhaps, have been the leader of an insurrection be- fore which the horrors of St. Domingo would pale into insignificance. As it was, her baleful power extended its malignity to but few, and they innocent, or mostly so, of any blood, though not imnocent of eyil-doing. Heartstead felt her burning gaze upon him, though his'eyes remained closed. At length he moved uneasily. “Take your eyes from me,” he growled! “Take them away—they scorch my brain !” But she did not move. “Why do you thus torment and annoy me ?” said the young man, rising from his seat impulsively, and pacing the floor of the «cave. “I should not have come to this pass of villainy if it had not been for you,” he continued, bitterly. “ Not without my help,” said Judith. “ But would you indeed have relinquished your little beauty—and to the hands of a rival ?” ™~ “No, not blasthim! She shall be mine, I will keep her here till she consents to be my wife. But what is this to you? You have no interest here. You know not the power of love, nor the anguish of soul to hayel @ rival,” “No,” said the quadroon, quietly. “But think you there is no other cause? Your motive in this scheme is as ngthing com- pared to mine,” . “T do not believe. it,’ said the other, COMIC OOK (CO)