Bonny Jean, and A Severe Threat — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

A SEVERE THREAT. | 129 With a low moan of horror and despair, Geraldine darted for- ward as though to throw her arms about her husband, but her father's strong hand detained her, and she paused, panting and breathless. | One of the officers dropped his hand on Howard’s shoulder > he struck it down with stinging contempt. ‘‘ Don’t dare to touch me,” he panted, ‘‘or murder will be done here !” In a twinkling both officers sprang upon the young man, overpowered him, and the ‘‘bracelets’ were upon his wrists. Geraldine, in a death-like swoon lying in her father’s arms, knew nothing of the occurrence, and the officers dragged the young husband away—pallid, agonized, heart-broken; not knowing what might happen ere he should be free again to claim his wife through the strong hands of the law. It was an easy matter for Lionel Vernon to carry his uncon- scious daughter on board the train, which did not start for sev- eral minutes; and leaving the place, they were borne away as fast as steam could carry them. Once more in England, Geral- dine awoke from the long stupor which had followed that death- like swoon, arid began to realize the horror of her own position. One day in early winter, with the light snow lying like a down blanket over the bare, brown earth, Geraldine entered the gates of her former prison, and was lead up to the broad, wind-swept walk to the dismal old house ; its doors closed behind her with a clang, and she was a prisoner once more. The days came and went—came and went with slow, leaden feet ; winter had died and fair, sweet spring had been born, when one day Lionel Vernon suddenly appeared at the old house. Geraldine was sitting at an open window, for she had grown so weak and frail that it was no longer deemed neces- sary to cage her like a bird. She was very pale and delicate, in a dress of snowy cashmere, her thin hands lying on her lap, her great, dark eyes fixed upon the landscape without. When she had come back to this dreary prison the brown earth was lying cS Comicboo (ere)