A Silver Brand — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

124 A SILVER BRAND. * The silvery moonlight waxed brighter and brighter, until all the sandy beach glistened like a jeweled ribbon. The. young gentleman did not mount the path. He watched the graceful figure wind among the rocks and disappear, then stepped in amid a briery thicket near the shore and settled himself as comfortably as might be, muttering’: ‘““T will sée her off at least. And I would risk consider- able to obtain another word. Such a saintly creature has never crossed my path before. Her very presence is enough to calm my wild spirit like a benediction. I must learn more about her. Serena! A sweet, serene soul, certainly.” Meanwhile, in the rustic cottage that nestled in the little valley to which the lane led, safe on the mainland, Grand- mother Peyron said her prayers, fervently commending her beloved one to the keeping of all the saints, and then went to sleep calmly and trustfully. She woke twice in the night, and looked out at the bright moonlight, but did not rise. Serena, of course, she thought, had come in be- fore that time, and must have enjoyed her row, and her walk from the beach. The third time of her waking the broad daylight was streaming into the room. She started up and rubbed her eyes, and then, smiling softly, crept up noiselessly, and dressed herself. | _ “T will have breakfast once for Serena, and laugh at her for oversleeping,” she said to herself. ; She passed out into the-kitchen. But there she stopped abruptly, and stared around her bewilderedly. The clock had run down. The door was locked, but the bolt was still unslipped, as she had left it for the girl’s entrance with the key. The whole room lacked the final touches that Serena’s hand always gave before she retired. Wheeling about, with a low cry of mingled entreaty and consternation, Madame Peyron hurried as fast as her | trembling limbs would carry her into the adjoining bed- room. It was empty! The bed smooth, the pillow unpressed. A wild, foreboding dread fell upon the poor old woman. She staggered away to the door, and called shrilly, half unconscious of the agonized terror in her voice: "Oh, Mrs. Haynes! Mrs. Haynes! come and tell me what todo. Something dreadful has happened !—some- thing dreadful has happened this night. Serena has never come home! My child is not here!” ach ecomicbooks.co