Octavia's Pride; or, The Missing Witness — page 261: what you’re looking at

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

- : 4 . ® Se a I PN a a a TBO eT AT, aMlmae bs Rana Ses 0 oa a, ss ae ol a Perch es A SUR Wt Si au $F 70 he se Ne 572) te ty Ca AR. ee os bg PR a es MN Jere Le Yet CAT MN ag ty . 7 * ye - rj iP me > ‘ ys ee ry — ri —p . “ *. ee oat © a” f - * i - | %¥¢ - : é Be Bis “ee a »% aw we : Dau ue +f - ; Ty 2 OA ab’ je hel ei ae «| 7 ¢ ao _ ‘i d * : 7 SOLER. Ad one dy ~s wr aA Stee Ji ASTER f OCTAVIA’S PRIDE. 951 ters sake. Did you think I should be balked by a thief’s tampering fingers?” : | The earl had changed as many colors as a schoolboy de- tected in an unlawful act. He tried to draw aside the be- wildered old general. ““Come, my dear General Wainwright, let us leave the ladies to settle their odd little affair.” ‘‘ But is it safe to leave that man here?” stammered the general, pointing where Mathew Merle, in all his passion of anger and defeat, glared upon them. «“T will attend to him myself, if you will retire ‘ Mathew Merle, quite beside himself with rage, leaped for- ward and laid his claw-like hand on the soft, womanish one of the general—on whose finger glittered the great seai ring, with the coat uf arms, of the master of Wainwright Slope. ‘* Hold! you need not think you have done with me yet— not one of you. So this is General Wainwright. I happen to know a few matters of interest to the gentleman. You have not introduced us yet, my lord. I am Mathew Merle, sir—Mathew Merle, of Calcutta. J am seventy-one years old, but my faculties are well preserved, as you see, and I have a most vivid remembrance of my youthful days. I was only a lad, to be sure, but I have very fresh recollec- tions of a relative of yours. Arthur Wainwright was a boon companion of my father’s, and then there was his cousin Gustavus. I can remember every item of our jour- ney to Australia to be present at his wedding. Bless me! when I think of it, itis but yesterday. After all, India is a better climate than England. I appeal to the company if they would believe General Wainwright here only fifty-eight years old, or that I could be thirteen years his elder.” He looked around him in sardonic triumph, getting through this long speech without interruption, because, however angry, the earl was struck dumb by the shivering terror which crept over the general’s face, “S ‘EComicboo co mi