Commodore Junk — page 339: what you’re looking at

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

332 COMMODORE JUNK. cups he had had in use above. With this he bore some of tlie cool refreshing liquid to the wounded woman, holding some to her lips and bathing her brow, till she uttered a sigh and returned to consciousness, her first act being to stretch out her hand and lay it upon Humphrey’s shoulder to draw him nearer to her. “Don’t leave me!” she said feebly. ‘It is very dark !” “ But we are safe,” he whispered. ‘They are gone.” “Yes,” she sighed; “I heard them. How long is it to day ?” “Tt cannot be long now,” he said, as he took her hand. She sighed as she felt the unwonted tenderness and rested her head against his shoulder. “No,” she said, softly, “it cannot be long now. It will some too soon !” There was so much meaning in her voice that he felt a cold chill, as if the hand of death had passed between to separate these two so strangely brought together. “ Are you in pain ?” he said. “Pain! No. Happy—so happy!” she whispered. ‘“ For you do love me?” “ Love you!” he cried. “ And she—at home ?” “That was not love,” he said, wildly. ‘ But now tell me about this place—shall we see the day when it comes?” “You will,” she said, softly. ‘I shall—perhaps.” “Perhaps! No, you shall!” he whispered, as he pressed his arm gently around her, forgetting everything now of the past, save that this woman loved him, and that there was a future before them of hope and joy. “Tell me what I can do —to help you.” ‘Hold me like that,” she whispered, with a sigh of content. “Tt is better so. It could never have been—only my wild Conniclooolkks.conn —)