Penny Dreadfuls, 1890 · page 127 of 287
Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 127: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1890. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
122 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. audience gave vent to their consternation. Lillia Meredith rose to her feet and sat down again, pale and electrified ; my father reached forward and wrung my hand; the coun- sel for the State looked thunderstruck ; the judge sat for- ward with his handson his knees; the jurymen conferred in rasping and hasty whispers; Mr. Speingle waited phleg- matically for silence though there was a deep excitement in his eyes. | ‘« Silence!” shouted the clerk. A rapid hush fell on the convulsed throng—they were afraid to lose one word. ‘¢ May we not venture to say that the missing soldier has been found where Cecil Beaumont, 7f dead, should be found? Witness, stand up.” I rose again and came forward. ‘This lace sleeve was found in the dead man’s hand, upon whom the inquest was held in Mrs. Beaumont’s house. Do you recognize this sleeve as belonging to the prisoner?” I took it in my hands; it was much soiled and torn; also there was a considerable portion of it covered with soot, or smoke grime. “This is not the sleeve my sister wore that night,” I sald. Mr. Speingle took it from me and handed it to the jury- men on the bench. “‘ Gentlemen, examine it minutely,” he remarked. “Now, my man,” turning to Mr. Walsh, who had taken refuge near Bently; ‘‘ how was it you did not see that sleeve in the hand of the gentleman you picked it up from beneath the bridge?” ‘IT didn’t look for anything,” he said, sullenly. ‘* You remarked on the appearance of the place, I sup- pose?” “«¢ Yes, sir.” | “Confess now—wasn’t there plenty of soot and scum about the place, the remains of a gipsy fire, burnt sticks, ashes, and so on?” ‘“‘ Nary a thing but clean snow and clean water,” said the peddler, grimly. Bently sat with a saturnine smile, eying his boots. “Then,” said Mr. Speingle, addressing the jury, “that sleeve cannot have been Miss Rienzi’s, cannot have been at. CORNUCG OOO S (©)