The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

124 THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. ‘‘If one place more than another promises an original, this does; for I never beheld its equal; it is just the thing.’ As he spoke he dismounted and led his horse toward a shed which lay on one side of the farm, but the entrance to which was concealed behind the trees. ‘*Upon my soul, this is a very well contrived place, and would do well for many purpses I could speak of. Hilloa, friend, is there any living human being about this place?” ‘‘ Yes—I be here,” said a sleepy-looking fellow, half boy and half man; ‘‘and as for the beans, you can have them, if so be as you want them, and master’s agreeable.” ‘‘Can you take charge of the horses? sort them down and feed them.” “Yes, I should think so. Tssort a horse down wi’ anybody in the country—I don’t care who he be.” ‘‘Very well, then, sort them down well, and if you do, you and [il reckon for it. Is there anybody in the house?” ‘* Yes, there was, when I was in there,” returned the fellow, scratching his head. ‘‘Indeed! when was that?’ ‘* About three hours since.” Seeing nothing was to be made of this specimen of the popu- lation of the district be entered the house, keeping Mabel con- stantly by his side. ‘“T would,” he said, ‘‘have given you more liberty, but it would be dangerous to trust you; you avowed every intention to make your escape from me.” «* And should I not do so? is thereany justice or right that I infringe by so doing? On the contrary, I am now suffering violence and injustice, to a degree undreamed of by almost any human being, and for which you would suffer, if your false- hoods had not prevailed.” ‘“¢ And will prevail,” said the mendicant. ‘You may depend upon it, when I say that I will leave no means unused to retain you in my power. I have set my life upon a chance, and I will stand to it—-but no more of this now—come on.” -He entered the passage, and seeing several doors, he opened one which happened to lead into a large kitchen, around which were placed a number of barrels, resting on trestles, with a variety of cellar utensils. There was a large firefilace; the fire was evidently on the wane, and on either side sat an elderly couple, maleand female. They were fast asleep, and tolerably fat. The man sat in an easy-chair, in his shirt-sleeves; he was the landlord of the place —that was plain: he wore an apron before him, and no one else would have presumed to sleep at that time of the day. ‘‘Hilloat what ho! here—what ho! is there any one alive in this dull house, here? What bo!” These words were uttered by the mendicant with such start- ling energy that the sleepers started in affright. ‘* What ho! hilloa!—anybody alive here ?” “TI don’t know,” said the landlord, who had just recovered the comicbooks. com