The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

OF LONDON, 99 watching each other, both upon their guard, and both prepared to strike. f Away with you, at length exclaimed the la a; my dirk is longer than your knife; but my chii- dren are alive, for I hear them breathe. Begone, you might have killed them, and did not, and therefore I do not wish your death. - I can’t swim, said he, ironically. Begone! reiterated the laird, whose voice cones bled with anger and indicnation, Listen a moment, cried Bob; we: yay settle | this matter. ~ While uttering these words, which* see med i in- tended to produce some sort of capitu laid ~ Bob sprang upon the laird with the activity of a ‘ther, and aimed a blow right at his head—but Angus was on his guard: he | parried the blow. Ashoré; .._ silent, but terrible struggle ensued. In abonta ~ minute Bob staggered, having received a wound in the throat. Angus threw him down, and placed one knee upon his chest, In falling, Bob struck Clara’s shoulders, who, half awake, raised herself up. The laird was about to strike anoihor blow. At that instant the moon, emerging frcm he cloud, threw its rays upon the face of Angus; that of Bob Lantern remained overshadowed. My father! cried Clara, imagining she was op- oressed by some horrid dream. The laird involuntarily turned towards her. ob Lantern took advantage of this movement, mped up, and without attempting to search for is knife, which had dropped from his handinthe rruggle, be seized the laird by the throat, back | comichooks.com