Penny Blood Serial Cover — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

100 ALFRED DE ROSANN. lowed me in my dreams; my imagination was con- tinually forming brilliant plans for the future—I saw myself surrounded by domestics—I heard the noise of my carriage, as it rolled up to my door; in fine, I thought of nothing but that treasure, and the means of possessing it. I could not work; my meals were nauseous to my taste; I looked with disgust on every thing save the fatal portmanteau; and at last, in a spe- cies of mental phrenzy, I resolved upon doing the accursed deed.’’ Here the old man invariably stopped fora moment, drew breath, wiped his eyes and his brow, and then proceeded with the tale of horror that had stamped untimely wrinkles on his forehead. “No sooner was my mind made up to perpetrate a terrible action, than | felt easier; and one fatal night —the rain beat in pitiless torrents against the win- dow—not a single star varied the gloom of the dark canopy above—the wind howled in the narrow street, in dismal chorus to the whisperings of my conscience —all nature seemed at war—lI left my lonely couch, armed myself with a deadly weapon, and proceeded to the chamber of the Marquis. The venerable no- ble slept; there reposed one of France’s ancient peers —the aristocracy of the old regzme—a pillar of the murdered Louis’s mighty throne! I paused to dwell a moment on his unruffled features—his mild coun- tenance; hen, banishing all commiseration from my ruthless soul, I stabbed him to the heart. He uttered not a groan—a slight convulsion passed through his frame—and in an instant he was no more!’’ It was the old man’s custom fo pause again, when he arrived at this crisis; he then concluded in the fol- lowing terms:— | “But my villany was well rewarded. I opened the portmanteau, and sought in vain for the gold—it had disappeared.. A bundle of papers alone met my eyes. Although I could not read—for my education had been more than neglected—I knew that they were neither bank-notes, nor bills of exchange to pra- ae : COMMICLOOOKS .COnn