The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 58 P ee Come in, for Heaven’s sake!” said Jem. ‘‘ Here's murder one! ‘ Susan gave a screain, and fainted off hand at once in the outer. room, while Toggs, to the full as pale as the wounded traveler, looked into the room with horror-stricken eyes. ‘‘Help—oh, help!” said the traveler, faintly. ‘‘@Oh, God! I bleed to death. Help—help—help!” *Jem recovered all his faculties in a moment. ‘ Toggs,” he said, ‘‘stay here, and don’t move for your life, I'll get Mr. Bland, the doctor, in a minute.” Without waiting for the reply of Toggs, Jem dashed out of the room down the staircase, and out into the village, like a madman. Toggs obeyed the injunction of Jem not to stir from the spot in its most literal sense, for he remained exactly as he was, about two inches within the doorway of the chamber, which, henceforward, was to possess so fearful a notoriety, glaring in the face of his murdered guest, with a mixed expression of com- passion and fear. a Help—help!” groaned the wounded traveler. ‘‘ Help! Don’t, oh! don’t let me die for want of help!” ‘‘ He—he—he’s gone for the doctor, sir,” stammered Toggs. ‘‘P’'m a fool, and can’t do nothing. Jem’s gone for the doctor, sir, Oh, Lord! what will become of us all ?” «¢7—-I—cannot live long now! Hear what—what—lI have to say, ere I am—a corpse!” ‘* Yes, sir—-yes, sir. God bless you, sir! Jl hear you.” ‘‘Heaven have mercy upon me, and give me leave to—to— speak—a moment without—this anguish.” He paused a moment, and rocked himself gently to and fro. The perspiration fell from his brow on tothe bed. Toggs saw it fall, and he trembled in every limb himself, expecting each moment that his strength would fail him, and he should faint away upon the spot, without hearing what the dying man want- ed to say. The wounded traveler spoke again, but his voice was getting weaker and weaker. ‘‘I—I want, before I die, to see—Captain Morton.” ‘* And so you shall, sir,” stammered Toggs. ‘But who did it, sir—who hurt you?” ‘‘A man—came into the room. I fired a pistol at him—missed him, and he sprung upon me with a knife.” **'Who was he, sir?” “‘J—J cannot tell.” Slowly the wounded man sunk back on the pillow—a deep groan came from his breast, and. Toggs jumped out into the outer room, just in time to run against Jem, who had returned, exclaiming: ‘*He wants to sée Captain Morton.” ‘‘Captain Morton, of the Hall ?” ‘*T suppose so,” ‘*Then he shall see him. I’ve told Mr. Bland, and he’s a-com-: ing. Im off again to the Hall,” comicbooks. com