The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 266: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 263 to make one effort more to save him from the infamy into which he was about to stink, and for that purpose I determined to appeal to his sense, and when he next sought me for money, I told him the whole truth—that he was entitled to a bare sub- sistence, and that one day or other he would be deprived of even that. . ‘“‘¢Why not,’ said I, ‘endeavor to secure yourself from the destruction which is more imminent in your case than you seem to imagine possible. I tell you what it is—if you do not reform and obtain the hand of some one in marriage, you are lost.’ ‘‘T shall never forget his look as he spoke to me. ‘¢¢ Fool,’ said he, ‘ give me all the deeds, and [ll raise more money than you can get in twenty years. Ill have some signa- rai that will make them all right, and I will live a roaring ife, ‘‘T refused to give him the papers and he struck me down with a blow that laid me insensible. When I recovered, I found myself covered with blood. I wrung my hands with sorrow and in tears. ‘This, then,’ I said, ‘is the reward of my crimes; I have deserved it, but he shall not go unpunished; he shall be stripped of all that I have heaped upon him; I will do an act of justice.’ My repentance was bitter and sincere, and I resolved hat I would spend my time in finding out my step-son, and restore to him what I had so unjustly detained from him. would return to him his father’s inheritance. I did attempt to find you, but I could not succeed; and then, my passion cooling against my son, I determined to hide myself from him altogether, and give him a chance of repentance and amendment; in the course of years he might do so. I should, at any time, have it in my power to restore the deeds by a dy- ing declaration, which I was resolved I would make, if my son showed any signs of amendment. I was compelled to hide my- self from him; for, could he have found me out, he would have gone the length of murder, to compel me to give him money, so that I feared him. After some time, I found my way to this place, where you found me; and I came here to make some at- tempt to discover you; but my end was approaching, and I could do no more; but should have sunk in the open streets, but for the providential meeting.” ‘Where are the documents ?” inquired the captain. ‘‘ Here,” answered the old woman, as she presented a small packet, sealed up, to her step-son; ‘‘ here they are; he for whom have done so much is unworthy.” ‘* But,” said Jem, ‘‘ vou showed me a child under the floor of the cottage. You have never explained.” ‘“‘Oh, my God! my God! name not that now. That child,” she said, after she had somewhat abated in her terror and excite- ment; ‘that child I had before I was married to your father, but not very long—a twelvemonth.” ‘ ‘“* Heavens! but he knew it not?” said the late hostler. ‘*No, no, he knew it not; but I murdered it—ay, I murdered it, because he should never know it; for I had my eye upon him, and had made up my mind that I would be his wife; therefore comicbooks. com