Penny Dreadfuls, 1865 · page 63 of 204
Rose Mortimer; Or, The Ballet-Girl's Revenge — page 63: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Description This is an interior page from the Victorian penny dreadful *Rose Mortimer; or, The Ballet-Girl's Revenge* (No. 8), featuring both an illustration and running prose text. The engraved illustration depicts "[THE MURDEROUS ATTACK]"—a scene of a woman in a light dress surrounded by darker-clothed figures in what appears to be a confrontational moment. The accompanying text describes a man trapped in a locked, burning house, unable to escape due to mysterious weakness, with the staircase ablaze. His attempts to open windows and doors fail as smoke fills the room and he calls for help in desperation.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ROSE MORTIMER 3; OR, THE BALLET-GIRL’S REVENGE, inert | La noe 4) Vaio . as } i - \ \ (Ve mer it J { =_ —_ — 4 _ 438° 3 «c yt \ J aN 2 —S—S f) 4 ’ | 4\\\\\ \ \ 4 ' 4 i My } j TAY 1 4 Tt} / ] « i i 4 in ¥ ‘ | | } | i | } } WD Sy ’ ‘ay f 1 i | vn) f | eh : f an } ! Bhs \s\ J | i t]} HIN f yy ' yl | wt | j i, | 4 j Wh f, Wy —S ———_ oe oe — ———, ——— > WSS ~ os SOSN WN WSS >. Ts Oe, Ee ETen Usse =~ oi ( ax '\\\ RA \\ Vw YESS NS [THE MURDEROUS ATTACK. | He ran to the door, but found it waslocked. ‘This, then, had been the noise that he had heard. He was locked in. By whom ? His wife. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been easy enough to force one.of the doors open, buta strange weakness had come over him. He could not battle with the lethargy which seemed to hold him captive. The smoke was now rapidly filling the room, com- ing, as it seemed to him, from under one of the doors. The house was on fire. No. 8. 2. Paes The staircase in a blaze. Staggering weakly across the room, he approached one of the windows. It was fastened with the usual bar and catch, easy enough to undo, but his fingers refused to do their office. Vainly he strove to press the spring, but a baby’s hand would have been of as much service. Again and again he tried, but with the same effect. Then yelled for help. He staggered back towards the door. But now his strength seemed utterly to fail him: His brain was in a whirl. CoOMiGcaoo S3COQ