Caught in the Snare — page 152: what you’re looking at

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

espair- O rush wainst down, fear- tt, and hands obbed re like d, and ricken shriek Inging iS cry, or, arose ext?” e€ go? rread- | far nselt, Stroy 10ULse re to eemn- here The Catastrophe, 139 was a pile of loose brushwood near. He set it on fire, and paused to gaze, as ——"“fierce and high The death-pile blazed unto the sky.” How red and fiery the flames looked? Were they, too, tinged with blood. He knew the place would soon be surrounded, and he dare not pause to see his dreadful work accomplished. Like one pursued by a demon he fled, and paused not until he had gained the vil- lage. There was no one astir; all were buried in peaceful repose, unconscious of the awful crime that had just been committed. How the murderer envied them as he flew past. He paused not until he had gained his own room and locked himself in. A flask of brandy stood on the table. Glass after glass of the fiery liquid he drained, to drown recollection; but all in vain, all in vain! Those dying eyes—that de- spairing cry—that last imploring gaze, were be- fore him still; and he paced up and down the room like a maniac, not daring to pause one moment in his rapid walk. “Fire! Fire!’ The cry ran through the streets, and roused him into action. All was bustle and confusion. Men were rushing through the streets toward the scene of the tragedy. He could not endure i iJ } : | 1 i ! if itt j | H | a | ih i} | Coats Gh hid ; ' ty ! t | i # ; ; j 4 4 : it ‘ ' j comicbooksrcom