Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

JOSEPH WILMOT ; HiT AA QU Tp mn fa ; { \\ i) = YU ofits ya Wi) Wy, exnall scrap of paper. This E hastily cpened; and read the following lines :— ** When the excitement of your hurried departure, dear Joseph, shall be over, you will naturally reflect upon the circumstances attending it. You may even fall into the society of those who will become interested in you (for that you must make friends for yourself, I am sure) ; and they may perhaps press you for detailed explanations. I beseech you to spare my father! I need say nomore. The generosity of your heart is duly comprehended and appreciated both by my afilicted mother and by “‘ Your affectionate but unhappy ‘ ANNABEL.” I shed tears over this billet; and at first vowed that I would keep it as a memorial of its beloved writer: but a second thought induced me to de- stroy it—for I was afraid lest in the progress of some fresh vicissitudes it might fall into the hands of others, 6 OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT., 41 i {nr grt, er, ' y if / \ i) » rhades Wit Dit ddibtines reflected that if her father enterlained the sus- clon of her complicity in my flight, he would visit it with the most savage vengeance. I up- braided myself for having been persuaded thus to escape: I fancied that I had acted a cowardly part in consenting to a course which, while it ensured my own safety, would possibly compromise her. Oh, how I longed to be with her again! Never had she seemed so dear to me—that beau- tiful ethereal creature—as now that we were sepa- rated. But should I ever see her more? Yes! I remembered her own words—that there was justice in heaven, and that I should not for ever be pursued by my persecutors. The silver notes of her voice seemed to linger in my ear; and that assurance appeared fraught with the inspiration of prophesy. Ah! and even then, too—young though I was—I solemnly vowed within the depths of my own heart, that Annabel’s image should serve as my good genius; and that if ever I were assailed Le | aw ~~. mie Poor Annabel! I wept bitterly as I | by temptation to stray into the wrong course, the EGhboo <S (C@)