The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

40 THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. ‘‘ A customer worth having, I hope,’’ said Toggs, as he flour- ished a white napkin, and rushed to the door. CHAPTER X. THE person who had halted at the Morton Arms was a young man, who from his general appearance, seemed to have ridden far. He was covered with dust. and his horse, as well as he him- self, looked jaded and anxious for a rest. As he reined in his steed, he looked anxiously up at the sign of the public- house, and, when the landlord made bis appearance, he said: ‘‘ And this. then, is the Morton Arms?” ‘‘The Morton Arms, sir,” said the landlord, ‘‘ as you remark, and very much indeed at your honor’s service.” : The young stranger dismounted, and said: ‘*Let my horse be well seen to, if you please, show me to a private room, and bring me some of the best wine you have.” ‘*Certainly, sir—certainly—most certainly. God bless me! what do you get in people’s way for?” These last words were addressed to the mendicant, who had followed the landlord to the door, and was now run against by him as he turned to enter the house. ‘‘Look where you are going another time,” said the beggar. ‘*Confound you!” muttered Toggs. ‘‘ You might make your- self useful, and hold the gentleman’s horse till Jem, the hostler, comes, as you are here pow.” ‘It’s the very thing I was going to do,” said the mendicant. He placed his hand on the horse as hespoke. The young trav- eler was about to follow the landlord into the inn, but he sud- denly paused, as if a new thought had struck him, and returning to his steed, he commenced unbuckling the saddle. ‘““Oh, sir, we'll manage all that in a minute or two,” said Togegs; ‘‘ pray don’t trouble yourself.” ‘*No trouble,” said the stranger. ‘‘I have some matters in the pocket of the saddle, which I prefer having in my own room.” Any one who at that moment could have seen the counte- nance of the mendicant might well have started at the perfectly demoniac expression of rage it,assumed. Fire seemed to flash from his eyes, and it was evidently only by a great effort that he succeeded in keeping himself from exhibiting some loud and violent ebullition of temper. | The traveler was too busy himself taking the saddle from his horse to take any notice of the countenance of the mendicant. By the time he had nearly finished that operation, Jem, the hostler, made his appearance, and lent his aid. ‘*Carry the saddle at once to my room,” said the traveler to hi m. ‘** Yes,” said Toggs. ‘‘No. 8, Jem. No. 8 will be the gentle- man’s private room. ‘Your bedrooin, sir, will adjoin it, JI pre- sume you intend to honor us with your company ?” ‘Yes, And perhaps more than one night.” comicbooks. com