Roxy Hastings — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

ROXY HASTINGS. 77 been usually exuberant, but who was decently grave now, stepped up with perfect calmness. : ep will take the next turn, if my friends are willing,” he said. They bowed assent, and he drew, with hands that did not tremble. A white ball! Again the murmur went around, and the new exempt passed into the circle of spectators, without any visible change of countenance. : But four marbles were left, and the chances against the remaining drawers were increasing in a terrible ratio. Many eyes lingered upon the countenance of young Lee, who was a universal favorite, and all were surprised at the perfect serenity which pervaded it. Hartley’s face, on the contrary, was painful to behold, so intense was its look of terror. A third and fourth now came rapidly forward, and drew —each a white ball! “This is terrible !” exclaimed Louis, springing up, with the light almost of insanity in his eyes. ‘Draw, Alfred, draw! The black ball will be left!” he said ‘*Be calm, my friend !” exclaimed Lee, smiling pleasantly. “Death comes but once, and if I am to suffer let us, at least, rejoice that all these escape.” But if Alfred was composed his last competitor was not. He was a young man who had been somewhat of a blus- terer in the ranks, but whose courage had been suspected in more than one instance. He was as pale as statuary marbel now, and both voice and hand trembled as he came forward. There was a bottle of wine standing upon a table near by, for since Alfred had received his money, they had not lacked such luxuries, and he stepped up and poured out half a tumbler full, which he swallowed almost at a gulp. “Do you prefer that I should draw, Mr. Lee?” he said, in @ quavering voice. “Yes, if agreeable to you.” He looked as if it were anything but agreeable, as he fairly rushed up to the box, and plunged his hand through its aperture. He drew outa ball, and held it up, with face averted, and waited for Others to announce its color. “W hite—white—white !” was muttered by many voices, and the inconsiderate man clapped his hands in glee, as he dropped the unconscious arbiter of his fate upon the floor. Louis Hartley’s straining eyes caught one glimpse of the Gomicboo CS (ee)