Penny Blood Serial Cover — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

ALFRED DE ROSANN, _ 119 deafening din, and each individual was as regardless of the actions of his neighbour as self-interest and the _ idea of self-preservation could possibly make him— when the Governor vainly essayed once more an in- terposition of hts authority—when an inspector, who cried out “ Peace!’’ as loud as his voice could bawl, received for all answer a knock on the mouth with a chain~-when the soldiers had left the walls, under which they were at first ranged, and had become min- gled promiscuously with the original promoters of the strife—and when, by a sudden movement, the whole belligerent mass verged towards the building in which the door that gave ingress and egress to the prison was situate;—at that auspicious moment an old man made his way with difficulty through the crowd, and sought the place where De Rosann and Belle- Rose were together resisting the shocks and concus- sions of those who surrounded them. Plombier—for it was he—gave a single nod of recognition, and put a little key into the hands of each. Not a word pass- ed between them. De Rosann and Belle-Rose were well aware of the purpose for which those diminutive instruments were given, and speedily availed them- selves of so useful an agency to cast off the galling fetters that had hitherto restrained their limbs in igno- minious thrall. Plombier then made a sign for them to follow him, and again forced his way through the - erowd. But instead of taking the direction of the principal gate, he pursued another, which obliged him, and those who were guided by his motions, to force their road among the densest part of the throng. At length fortune and hardy elbows favoured their schemes, and they stopped at the wall that bounded one side of the large square. Within afew yards was a small door, which Plombier opened; and another moment saw them all three in a second enclosure, away from the rude multitude, whose shouts still echoed up to heaven. ‘You have your passports about you?”’ said Plom- bier, stopping to recoyer breath, and speaking for the C@nnicloookxs (C@