At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

20 AT A GIRD’S MERCY. ing fast by the window-ledge to steady herself, her soul fairly quivering into a prayer that the day would come quickly. There was evidently no one stirring but herself; the house was still as death, ay, worse than death, for how could she wait till the sun should mount the hill yonder before she could help her parents—before she could know the worst? The house was so still. Could the man have lied to her—lied to her, that no one had been harmed, when her father and mother at that moment might be—— She dared think no more; thought without action was unbearable. Witha switt movement she swept the curtains aside, and leaning out, noiselessly opened wide the shutters, then turning, she set the gas at full blaze, sending a weird gleam of light out to meet the warm, sweet light of morning. ‘“‘T cannot bear it!’? she whispered, excitedly, to herself, pacing the floor with clenched hands and guivering face, her step grown strong with excite- ment. ‘‘I cannot bear it any longer. I promised not to leave my room till the sun is risen, but some one may see this light and come to learn the cause. I pray God they may. It is unbearable—unbearable. They may be—— What may not have happened in the time I have spent here waiting.”’ She stamped her bare foot noiselessly, but ina tempest of anger and fear; she threw out her hands with a gesture of despair, the blue eyes purple with excitement as she turned toward the window, her face drawn with waiting. “Will the dawn never come—will no one ever come? How can everyone sleep so sound with this at their doors? How can they fail to see my light? Oh, if I only might have shot him down like a dog! If I Comicbooks.co