Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

C Moieei patel hy ae passage, a poe ee was slipped, a key vened and the house door jo opened. Directly after there was a scufite 3 in the passage, and a boisterous bass laugh. “My Hebe! my idol ” cried this boisterous voice. “My augers: Judith, do I again behold thee? © Never squirm or | wriggle, my fair one, but give us a kiss, and have done with © har by a second jovial laugh. *Tt’s like your impidence, Captain Darrell,” exclaimed a shrill female voice. “If I’d a-knowed it was you, you might a-knocked the door down afore I’d have opened it. Let me oa alone, I tell you, or I’ll scratch your eyes out.” -- A man’s step came bounding up the stairs-—-each stride is open, and Captain Reysten Darrell, of the schooner Raven, ‘stood before old Peter Fisher. A magnificent monster—a giant of six feet three, with the - thews and sinews and Hiuseles of a gladiator—the build of a } Beret chs Hercules, and the symmetry of an Apollo Belvedere. _ A kingly head, crowned with a glorious aureole of red-brown hair; maenificent beard and mustache of the same leonine hve; a broad, white forehead; two brilliant blue eyes, full of SS ~ laughing light: a symmetrical nose, and a ruddy compiexion es _ well browned by exposure to freezing winds and tropic suns. An over specimen of eS ss muscular Gierisiianity aged seven- -and-twenty years. The old man wheeled round in his chair, and eyed the big _ Captain of the Raven with a grim stare. “At last, Roysten Darrell! You have kept me waiting, and | hate people who make me wait. You told Simpson vou ‘$s would follow him ‘silat and Simpson | has been back over an RADI. 2 igo tee “Simpson may go have) !” responded Roysten Darrell, po- * ap ae: ‘and you, too, my Ancient “Mariner, if it comes to that. Do you suppose I have nothing else to do, when ashore, than - dancing attendance upon you and Simpson ? Jt was touch- aD o my getting here at all, most worthy old buffer. I had Sar) r fish to fry, I can tell you. But here I am; and aes " Wet the deuce do you want in such a hurry 2” “To make your fortune, Roysten Darrell, little as you de- ae * serve it. So try and keep a civil tongue in your head. Yow’re ons not on the deck of the Raven now, remember, and Peter ae _ Fisher isn’t one of your slaves.” SAT, if ne your fortune, eh?” repeated Captain Darrah coolly. 4 fm ee me PN ee 0 ker of yours will Phone ges shout your ears one of these ‘Here there was a eT a and a sounding slap, followed making them creak with his weight; then the door was flung don’t you make your own first, Mr. Fisher ? This old — > , Vat $i a io. ia Bee | | GComicbooks-co