Penny Dreadfuls, 1889 · page 19 of 216
The American Marquis by Nick Carter — page 19: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1889. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ne Y Pe Aa a = , me Th au i Tw * Were of) is we io AL _% bh a Lom Peel ae we a * i / s’ Pan oe Qik ua ti 7 A Ip yt , fas : Nah by Ss MY lean AOA Di SPI ete Me ata Cer Ec Mie ieee cei Noni ara OU an A t t ¥ ; % >a Sey J .* iy ¢ - \ 4 ° . Ve 3 ia f . >, vey UP ' eo $ T J, ‘$ + : ? 4 j el ' 4 BO tat iy tie Oe eorls \ WAS eS a eee ee gh fa Pit etry ; * ; , hae | , me we he : ‘ 4 “y . z ‘3 , ee 4 7 ws ¥ A Pi \ 4 Pa \ . y 4 4 4 i ve ’ 4 - Li THE AMERICAN MARQUIS, the A dainty, black-slippered foot peeped out from under the hem of the skirt, and the body was slightly bent forward, like Aurora poised for flight. Such perfection of form, such enchanting grace, Clinton believed he had never seen before. ‘‘ Well!” exclaimed she, when, after waiting, Clinton did not speak. ‘* Has the knight of the mysterious adventure lost that glib tongue of his?” Faith, no!’ answered he, starting from his ecstasy. «© But my eyes were so drunk with pleasure as to require all my attention.” | ** What a pretty compliment!” “You really are alive, are you?” ‘¢T hope so.” ‘* And you are the bride?” ‘¢T am, indeed.” «Then come to my arms, and ‘‘That’s not in the agreement,” interrupted the man, harshly, and with considerable show of impatience. ‘‘ If you can restrain vour folly long enough, monsieur, we will at once proceed with the ceremony.” ‘‘ Monsieur,” said Clinton, coolly, ‘‘ are there no windows in this chatean that you presume to use that tone to me? --Your hand, mademoiselle. After you, monsieur. We are ready.” With great outward calmness, but burning inwardly with 33 excitement, the artist approached the lovely creature, and taking her by the hand, placed it on his arm with graceful gallantry, and waved the stranger onward. A moment of hesitation, and the masked man led the way through the side door into a small, square chamber; through that into a hall, and across that into a large octag- onal room, so dimly lighted that Clinton could barely see oie already occupied by three persons—all men, all masked. | CHAPTER IV. THE INTERVIEW. Please put on this white mask.” Clinton did as requested. ‘* Now let me explain to you. J know that you are a man of honor, and that your promise will be kept.” Eomichbooks (ele)