Alfred de Rosann — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

ALFRED DE ROSANN. 95 T shall wait for you here—and God preserve you, my dear boy,’ exclaimed Robson, wiping away a tear. “ Now go—lI need not tell-you to keep up your spirits—and once more, may God bless you!”’ | De Rosann endeavoured to console the excellent old man, by assurances of there being but little danger; and having succeeded in restoring him to partial tran- quillity, he followed Herbert down stairs, and jumped into the cabriolet that waited for him at the door. Markham and Belle-Rose had already arrived at the place of destination, when our hero and his second descended from the vehicle in the immediate vicinity of the appointed spot. Mr. Herbert and the self- styled Count d’Elsigny, proceeded to charge the pis- tols forthwith; while de Rosann watched the motions of his antagonist, whose face was ashy pale, and whose uneven steps, as he paced up and down the ground, betokened anything save self-possession and compo- sure. He was evidently annoyed that the two seconds did not endeavour to arrange the matter amicably ; but he dared not interfere in their proceedings, nor retract from the challenge he had somewhat rashly given. : When Belle-Rose and Herbert. had charged the pistols in each other’s presence, they drew lots to de- cide by whom the ground should be measured, and the signal given. Chance pronounced in favour of Belle-Rose; and he instantly commenced his duties: but he took such uncommonly small paces, when em- ployed in tracing the distance which was to intervene between the spots occupied by the hostile parties, that Markham could with difficulty conceal his terror. De Rosann merely smiled at the friendly conduct of his ancient companion, and received the pistol from the hand of Mr. Herbert, as if it were a handsome present, tendered on a more jovial occasion. Not that there was anything cruel, or blood-thirsty in the calmness of our hero ; his composure was purely the courageous indifference of a brave man, who does not fear to meet death face to face. | CORNICGLOO© S (C@