The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. | 161 prepared to wait upon her while she dispatched her morning meal, When this was over the landlady said while clearing away the table: ‘‘ There is an account of a very shocking murder in the paper. T never read anything equal to it.” ‘¢ Was it a man or woman ?” ** A gentleman; he was-hanged first, and then stabbed. Oh, it was frightful!” Mabel trembled, for the horrible scene she had witnessed in the lonely house again presented itself before her. ‘¢ Has the murderer been taken ?” she asked in as calm a voice as she could assume. ‘‘Oh, yes, my dear; but he denies all knowledge of the crime. But that’s the way with that sort of people; they never confess anything. He says there’s a young lady who knows of his inno- cence, but the officers can’t find her; and they will be sure to hang him.” ‘But suppose this young lady should come forward and say he was not the murderer ?” ‘‘Then he would get clear, of course, if the magistrates could be persuaded to believe her.” ‘* But if not.” ‘Then they will send him to Newgate for trial, and after that hang him.” ‘* Are you sure of that ?” ‘“Yes, my dear. If you read the paper, you will see all about it. The villain is to have another examination to-morrow.” So saying, the landlady handed her the newspaper. ‘Do you want anything, ma’am?” ‘‘ Not at present, thank you.” The landlady left the room and Mabel was left alone. She was deeply imbued with the consideration of the condition of the mendicant. The strange conduct of this man was to her unexplainable. He must have known something, even if he were not what he represented hitaself to be—her father. She could not help believing he must be some relation, and yet she shuddered to think what. He was the last man in the world that she would have desired for a father. Indeed, her thoughts revolted from such a contemplation. He had forcibly taken her from her friends; used threats and violence toward her; but he had done no more than was necessary to accom- plish that purpose; unjustifiable as that purpose was, she had nothing else to complain of. Great as this was, it sank before her, when she thought of the death that he would suffer. She could not look coldly on, and see him die a death so horrible as that of public execution, when it only wanted the breath of her mouth to save him. The more she thought of these things, the more she felt that it was highly improper to leave even a bad man tosuch a fate—to a pubiic death for acrime he was not guilty of. It was unjust in her, nay, criminal in her to permit it. She took up the paper, and then read the account of the re- mand of the mendicant, and the intimation that on that day, when he was next brought up, he would be committed for trial; comicbooks. com