Penny Blood Serial Cover — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

ALFRED DE ROSANN. _ 79. viour, and in less than a fortnight we dined together at Verey’s.”’ . ‘And pray what did you have for dinner?” in- quired Champignon, in a deliberate tone of voice. “ Sacré nom de dieu! do you think I recollect those kind of trifles !’? answered Belle-Rose. “ But talking of dinners puts me in mind of a certain couple of fowls, which, if you have no objection, messieurs, we will divide forthwith.” | By this time-De Rosann’s mind was partially com- posed, and he resolved not to forget in future those principles of philosophical resignation which he had before determined to adopt. Belle-Rose felicitated him with much warmth and apparent sincerity on this happy change. He repeated his arguments on the necessity of maintaining one’s courage in hours of difficulty and distress ; he awakened fresh hopes in Alfred’s breast relative to an escape, and insisted on his partaking of the dainties which were so cunningly procured at Pontchartrain. The few rays of light that struggled against ob- scurity in the cachot, where this festivity took place, were allowed to enter by means of a small square trap, or gutchet, which had been perforated in the massive door for the express purpose ; and as the orb of day gradually descended towards the western hori- zon, the gloom increased within that dreary dungeon. Presently a total darkness enveloped the three pris- oners, just as their savoury meal was concluded ; and Champignon—having in vain regretted his inability, for want of proper utensils, to hash the remainder of the fowls at the next morning’s breakfast—stretched | himself to sleep upon the straw: dreaming of kitch- ens, of sancepans, of viands, and of costly dishes. O that man were as happy in reality as he often is in imagination! Alas! that the dreams of riches make the waking truths of poverty the more severe ! A solemn silence reigned throughout the prison, only interrupted at long intervals by the barking of the gaoler’s dog, or the clanking of his keys as he COMmMicoookkS.«c©