The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. irs Yes,” she muttered; ‘‘ I will once more look upon those sad last remains. Oh, how dreadful! and yet I cannot refrain. I am fascinated—and yet, why? But—ah, no! I cannot part with them—I will not.” She went tothe cupboard, and taking outa long turnscrew she slowly walked toward a pertion of the flooring, in a chink of which she put the tool, and with but a slight effort, she lifted up a portion of boarding evidently made to do so. Beneath the boards was the coffin of a child. The woman paused as she gazed upon it. It was the coffin of a tolerably-sized child. She carefully laid the boards on one side, and, after examining the lid carefully, she paused before it some moments. The coffin was worn; there was dust and dirt upon it, though there wasan attempt made to keep it otherwise. There had been some years elapsed since the time that coffin was made, and that in which the old woman gazed at it. Sie took off the lid, and displayed the form and decaying body of a child; but it had long since ceased to be offensive. Indeed, there was but little more than the mere bones and the tougher integuments that held them together; what did remain was like skin or parch- ment drawn over the bones. It was a ghastly and horrifying spectacle. The grave-clothes were yet entire, the cap was still on the head, and its whiteness was a strong contrast to the deep, brown-like hue which the body had taken. The contrast was strong, and the sunken, eye- less sockets, the noseless face, altogether presented a truly ter- rifying spectacle. And yet Dame Strangeways felt, or seemed to feel no repugnance to gaze and even to touch the moldering body. Indeed, to her it seemed no new sight, but such as she ha! been accustomed te. Her head shook several times as she looked at the body, and then slowly replacing the lid of the coffin, and then the boards of the flooring, and then replacing the turnscrew, she once more paced the cottage flooring. She shook her head and heaved a deep sigh, and again sought the papers and began to read. She however, once or twice removed her eyes to the flooring, and not being satisfied that all was right, she walked on the spot were the coffin lay, and trod down the boards surely. Then returning to her chair, she again took up the papers, and began to peruse them silently; shaking her head, when she had done, and murmuring: ‘¢ Ah! wretch, wretch that I am! Could I but find the boy— the rightful heir—oh, could [ but find him!” With a heavy heart Jem made his way from the cottage of Dame Strangeways to the Morton Arms. The words of the old woman repeatedly occurred to him, namely, that no one would believe the account he gave of what he had seen in the church, because he was considered by far too interested a party in the proceedings to be trusted in the evidence he might give concern- ing them. ‘*Oh, dear me!” said a voice, as if coming from some person a few paces behind bim, ‘‘ whata trouble everything is, to besure; comicbooks. com