The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 15 ‘¢'Yes,” ne cried, ferociously, ‘*I am Sternholde, whom men call the ‘ Battle Fiend.’ Whereis he? 1 would not name him. Where is he ?” ‘* Dead—dead! Beyond the reach of your vengeance. Give me back my child.” ‘‘Dgad! Rouselli dead! D——n!” *G1Ve me back my child.” ‘Death and fury! What mean you,? Where is that child, ask I? Where is it—at Brussels—in France? Where, tell me where ?” ‘* Ydu cannot deceive me, villain. You, and you only, would snatch it from my arms. Restore it to me, Sternholde. The child, at least, never harmed you. Restore it tome. My Mabel —my child!” ‘“‘By Heaven, woman, I have not seen the infant! The knowledge of its existence added fuel to the flame of hatred which burnt in my breast already sufficiently fierce. Tell me where it is, and life shall not long linger in its frame!” “You know too well. Why will you thus torture me by a retended ignorance of that on which you are too well informed? h, Sternholde! surely you have some touch of human pity left forme? What have I done— what have I done ?” ‘‘Favored and advanced the doings of others. In that way you have injured me. And now, by this pretended ignorance — respecting the child, you would balk me of my vengeance.” ‘‘Sternholde, you mock me, Oh, give me back my babe. Surely—surely, you would not keep so young a child from its mother. Remember, I am now its only friend.” ‘Tts only friend, are you ?” ‘Tam; for, on my soul, I assure you he is dead.” ** Curses on the hand that laid him low! I wished him dead, but it was that I might killhim. What ise it tome that he is dead if another hand slew him? A thousand, ay, nearly a hundred thousand, better men than he, have this day shared his fate. The very air is heavy with the scent of blood. I had always a hope of meeting him—wherever France was en- gaged in warfare, there was I in the opposing ranks, Wherever a solitary traveler of that nation could be traced, I was on his footsteps like a bloodhound.” ‘* Peace—peace.” ‘Why, you shall hear. I always had my knife ready; I would spring upon them unawares, and, Jike some avenging spirit, I would take the life of him who had no fault but that he spoke the native language of Rouselli.” ‘* Sternholde—Sternholde! Let me lead you back to that one subject which fills all my heart.” ‘* What is that ?” ,. My child—my child! Sternholde, you have hidden it some- where!” ‘*Fool! think you that if I had met that infant, it would have lived? And think you 1 could refrain from exulting in its death? Take me to the spot where les Rouselli’s body. [ comicbooks. com