The Boy Soldier; Or, Garibaldi's Young Captain — page 286: what you’re looking at

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

—— ee 280 THE BOY SOLDIER; OR, GARIBALDI'S YOUNG CAPTAIN. nn a eee only to die of grief upon hearing that her only child, an infant, had been killed. “ During the siege not less than 600 women and children perished by the bayonets or bullets of the enemy, and sickness or fever. “Now that I have given you some brief account of the doings of the French in this far-off land, and of the Spartan heroism displayed by a people who despise and hate Maximilian and his kingly rule more than anything else on earth, it is time that [I now turn to say something about my own particular doings with the Boy Soldiers, and of the many individual adventures and scrapes which have befallen Fatty, young Buttons, and others of those whom I know you feel interest in. ‘“T find, however, that the length of this letter has far exceeded my original intention, and there- fore, until next week, will reserve what I have to say about myself, Caspar, Hugh Tracy, and many of our young Mexican recruits, who have greatly distinguished themselyes of late. 5 ‘‘Tand all the lads are impatiently waiting to hear news from you about what has become of old Flint, Jonathan, Shanks, and, last of all, regarding the doings of Joel. “From English newspapers which have reached | us, I learn that Sergeant Gale expresses his firm conviction that ere long he will be able to arrest and perhaps convict ‘all the scoundrels who had anything to do with uncle’s cruel murder. ~ “T hope this may prove true, and in hopes of hearing from you quickly, give my love to all the boys, and believe me to remain, \\\Seeigee ‘Your brother, FRANK FORD.” CHAPTER CVII. JOEL FLINT MEETS SOME ONE HE DOES NOT WISH TO KNOW, BUT CANNOT SHUN, For any one who has a large income, and nothing to do, London presents numberless attractions, and there are a thousand and one opportunities hourly and daily offered for killing time. Thus thought Joel Flint as'he strutted about in the finest broad cloth, bedizened with rings and jewellery of all sorts and sizes. From morning until night he had now nothing to think of but the best means of enjoying himself, and this he endeavoured to do on all occasions. If the best living, almost unlimited cash and im- pudence, could make any one happy, Joel should have been so, But he was not. | Whichever way he went, he felt as if some demon stalked behind him, | , He could obtain no real or substantial pleasure in anything, : ( He appeared almost afraid of his own shadow, A dark, lonely, and unfrequented street struck terror into his soul. He once had courage enough to pass the ‘*Red House” in a cab, but as it rolled by, he dared not look at it, for in imagination, he perceived a ghastly head at each window, which shrieked out loudly in his ears, ‘‘ Murder |) Murder !” . Such is the lot of the wicked, and those who live by the proceeds of crime. The thief, wherever he is, is in momentary dread of being ‘“ collared” or ‘wanted ” by some officer, Every man’s eye seems to be upon him, and in nine cases out of ten, he cannot look fixedly at any one without betraying a certain restlessness which says more loudly than words, ‘Tam not a man, but a paltry thief, too lazy to work, and a burden alike to myself and society,” SS HAS But what must be the feelings of a murderer! The rustling of a single leaf startles him, his knees tremble at the sound of thunder, and each moment he expects to be struck blind by avenging lightning. Both day and night, in society or out of it, waking or in dreams, a red hand points to him with a ges- ture of everlasting vengeance. He cannot look at the bright blue heavens with- out being abashed—the fields and flowers and warbling birds have nought of beauty or music to his soul—for human blood has extinguished’ in his soul every, yea the most latent spark of sensibility, and he stalks through society, with the outward show of manhood, but with heart and soul petrified -and inhuman. Thus it was with Joel. Whatever money could obtain, he had, and every sensual desire was gratified. But though he drank deeply, and could dress elegantly, though the ribald joke could cause a laugh, and the flattery of worthless ones cause a smile of gratified vanity, his heart was bursting and the cancer of despair was eating away his very life inch by inch and:hour by hour, 3 Se Such is the curse of ill-gotten wealth. When morning broke upon his troubled slumber, he wished it were night, for the light of day was too pure and blinding. When dark night came on, the air seemed peopled with haunting spirits, and the distant sigh of each passing wind thrilled every sense. Though young, he was very, very old ; and though rich, he -would, perhaps, have exchanged: his’ lot . with. any one for the peace of mind enjoyed by the poorest of the poor. Three or four nights after his visit to Mr. Lan- caster he was reeling along the streets intoxicated, and, imitating others, he too would appear to be -gay, and hummed a popular tune of the times, but each word seemed to stick in his throat, and his own shadow in the moonlight appeared hideous and revolting. -It had an hour or two before been raining hard, but the clouds no longer obscured the silvery moon, and homeward staggered the dandily-dressed Joel Flint. He had not gone far, however, when a poorly- dressed old man, wet to the skin, with tattered hat and shoes down at heel, accosted him, and begged for the price of a bit of bread. Joel, who had never known what want or the keen pangs of hunger were, insulted the houseless wanderer. Again did the man in rags beg, for the love of Heayen, to be relieved. ‘Out upon you, rascal!” was the brutal answer, “out upon you, rascal! Don’t speak of heayen to me; but get out of my path |” ans on With a fiendish laugh he raised his walking- stick and struck the beggar man full in the face and severly cut it, pe The blow knocked the old man’s hat off, and he fell.on his knees from faintness and hunger. “Oh, God, have mercy on me!” he whined, and poked up into Joel’s face like a poor half-famished og. The moonlight fell upon his face, Joel started back in mute surprise, and gazed on the ragged stranger like one demented, ‘“What!” he exclaimed, suddenly sobered and filled with astonishment, ‘‘ what! it cannot be!” The old man hung his head, and wiped his bleed- ing face, It was the meeting of father and son ! It was Lawyer Flint and his son Joel ! GComicboo (©) ra i