Beautiful Rienzi; or, The Secret Vendetta — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZL. 151 employed that he did not see me, though I stood close by him. “* All alike—all alike!” he muttered, driving at a stone which lay in his way. ‘Get over, will ye! Yes—will help herself in spite of me, and run into devil knows what scrapes, while I grub, grub, grub here—heh! This is rough round,” “Is that hard work?” I asked, wishing to apprise him of my presence. He turned round and stared in surprise at me. ***Morning, miss. How long have you been here? Well, not very hard, when it’s not up hill. I didn’t see you, miss, before this minute, and you gave me a bit of a start.” It was a queer old face into which I was looking, and I could not help feeling mysteriously impressed. “I’m sorry if I startled you,” I said, wrenching myself from a reverie; ‘‘I was looking over this pretty Silverlea, and did not expect to see anybody.” ‘* You are one of the new tenants then, miss?” ‘* Yes; we arrived from New York yesterday.” “«“ You’re not an American, miss.” ‘* How do you know, that?” I asked, laughing. He folded his arms on top of his roller, and gazed at me, - with his chin down on his sleeves, with a kindly intentness. ‘Your tongue betrays you, miss. Ain’t you Italian?” ‘‘VYes, from Venice. I-came last autumn.” The man raised himself suddenly. ‘< What’s your name, young lady?” he exclaimed. «Rienzi—Ivanilla Rienzi; my father is Guiseppe Rienzi, the architect.” The dark, wild face grew dingy white; it showed such consternation and heavy anger, that I stood transfixed with surprise; a thousand fears, banished for a season by the peaceful scenes in which we had taken refuge, rushed back into my heart. ‘Who are you, sir,’ I demanded. ‘‘The gardener at Silverlea, miss,” he answered, in a stifled voice. : ‘Your name?’ I continued, anxiously. He affected not to hear me; picked up his roller and walked on. . ‘What is your name?’ I repeated, more imperatively, slowly keeping step with him. | Comicbooks.¢o