Commodore Junk — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

38 COMMODORE JUNK. mew-stone, a hundred yards from shore, to fly circling round, screaming querulously, as they slowly flapped their black -tipped wings. ‘They'll escape—they’ll escape !” cried Mary, clapping her hands joyously. ‘The coward, to fire! And they’re afraid to run hard and catch them now they are out in the open. Yes, they'll escape!” she cried again, as she saw the distance in- creasing between pursuer and pursued. ‘‘They’ll get to the boat; the sail’s in, and there’s a good breeze, Oh, if I were only with them !” A sudden thought struck her, and she caught up a sun- bonnet from where it lay on the open window-sill. “Tl go,” she thought. ‘They'll sail west. I could reach — Mallow’s Cove across the fields, and signal to them. They'd come in and pick me up, and we could escape together far, far from here.” All this with her cheeks flushing, her handsome eyes spark- ling, and her breast rising and falling in the height of her emotion. Then a change came over her. Her eyes looked heavy; her forehead wrinkled again. “Escape! Where?” she said, half aloud. ‘Td gladly go —away from all this torture; but they think I betrayed them, and would not come in.” The elasticity was gone out of her step, as she slowly climbed the face of the huge scarped rocks which towered above the cottage—a risky ascent, but one to which she was, as it were, born; and, with her eyes fixed upon the pursuers and the fugitives, she trusted to her hands and feet to take her safely to the top, passing spot after spot where one unused to climbing would have stopped and turned back, so giddy was the ascent. Higher and higher, past clinging ivy, fern, and clusters of yellow ragwort, with patches of purple heath and Gomichbooksrco