The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 89 ; ‘‘The deuce there is! You are mighty generous all of a sud- en.” ‘* The stake I play for now is a heavy one, and I will not risk the losing it for the sake of petty expenses. I dare say one of the gold pieces will suffice, but if one will not you must try two. ‘You won’t spend three ?” ‘< Yes, or three.” ; ‘*Very good. You are the man for my money. That’s the way to do business. I’m off. Never fear but your letter will find its way to its place of destination. You have supplied me with golden argument to use to John the footman or Sally the maid. It will be all right, you may depend.” Ned, or Dashing Ned of Newington, as he appeared to be pleased to call himself, at once started on his errand, and made up his mind that none of the gold which he had received from Solme should find its way back into that very enterprising indi- vidual’s pocket again. On reaching the house of Captain Morton, he found that the captain was from home, by an inquiry which he made of a stu- pid servant who answered him. ‘*Qh, then,” said Ned, ‘‘ here’s a note that the captain wants Miss Mabel to have at once, that’s all. Can you give it to her?” ‘‘To be sure I can. What’s to hinder me?” ‘‘ Very good; I can see that you are a clever fellow.” Away went Ned quite satisfied that he had done his errand, and the note was duly taken to Mabel, who, as may well be sup- posed, was both surprised and affected at its contents. And now she committed the greatest error of judgment she could, under the existing circumstances, at all commit. In- stead of waiting patiently until Captain Morton came home, and showing him the note she had received, and leaving the matter in his hands, she at once caught at the suggestion it con- tained, and, in her anxiety and impatience to ascertain the truth, she sought out Rafferty Brolickbones. This individual was in a room which contained various fire-arms, and a unique collection of weapons of the chase, which it had been a hobby of Captain Morton for some time to collect, and which were all placed under the care of Rafferty, who derived much pleasure from keeping them in order. He was now solacing himself with a song and a jug of ale, while he was freeing from the accumulated rust that hung about it some ancient weapon, whicb had been probably in act- ive use in those days when man made war with the brute in- habitants of the forest and the wilderness for his daily bread. ‘Troth, Miss Mabel,” he said, ‘‘ and is that you? It’s good for bad eyes is the sight of you.” ‘‘ Rafferty, I have come to ask you a question. Oh, tell me, and tell me truly, am I the child of Captain Morton, or am I not? Tell me at once, and truly. To doubt on such a point is too terrible.” Rafferty looked up to the ceiling, and then down to the floor, in great perplexity. Indeed, to any one but Mabel his hesitation comicbooks. com