Commodore Junk — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

40 COMMODORE JUNK. “What for now?” said Bart, stolidly, as he reached his companion’s side. ‘ Hum, that’s it, is it?” He looked round him for a fresh way of escape. There was the sea, if they liked to leap in and swim; but they could be easily overtaken. The rocks above them were too overhanging to climb, and there was no other way, unless they returned, and tried to rush through their pursuers; for beyond the point the tide beat upon the cliff. “No good, Bart; we’re trapped,” said Abel, stolidly. “TU never forgive her—never !” “Yes, you will,” said Bart, sitting down on a rock, and carefully taking off his fur cap to wipe his heated brow. ‘You will some day. Why, I could forgive her anything—I could. She’s a wonderful gell ; but, I say, my hips is werry sore.” He sat staring down at the boat beyond the point, the anchor having been taken on board, and the oars being out to keep her off the rocks, as she rose and fell with the coming tide. “No!” said Abel, bitterly. “I'll never forgive her— never !” “Nay, lad, don’t say that,” said Bart, rubbing one side. “ Hey, lass! There she is. Top o’ the cliff. Look at her, mate.” “No,” said Abel ; “let her look—at her cowardly work.” “Now, then!” shouted the head constable, as he came panting up. “Is it surrender, or fight?” For answer, Abel climbed slowly down to the sands, fol- lowed by Bart; and the next minute they were surrounded, and stood with gyves upon their wrists. ‘Warm work,” said the constable, cheerfully ; ‘‘ but we’ve got you safe now.” “ Ay, you’ve got us safe,” growled Bart; “but it wouldn’t ha’ been easy if Abel here had showed fight.” Comclooolkxs.comnn