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Penny Dreadfuls, 1900 · page 72 of 261

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Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 72: Penny Dreadfuls, 1900

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4). 2 iy es ee a Pie et SE ‘ El SAS OVE ENC aR Race! OS 5 ~* : ot 4 .* - . dekh = ‘ee i “as Pp ies at ins 4 CPi ee «¥ ye i. ‘ _ : Lom ” 7 As it *, us +4 Pope 7 d's DP hee , #9 ~* = he. + . ¢ ison ake were Mes at ‘hate moorings, and the rush for the cars had begun. | Carried along, resistless—whither, she Liew not, still ante haif awake—she found herself on the wharf, pushed on board the. cars, amid a a din and tumult that might have shamed Babel. A vacdfit seat, by some fortunate chance, was near. _ She dropped into it, her breath quite taken away. “You look as though you were half asleep still,” anid a voice at her elbow—-a laughing voice. “It is rather confus- ing, this being routed out of bed in the gray and dismal dawn. Are you alone?” Estella looked at the speaker—a handsome, well-dressed - young woman, who occupied the inside of the seat, and who was regarding her curiously. “Am I alone?” repeated Estella, a little dazed. “Yes, all alone. Please, where are we? and where are we going now? 0” ' “We are at Newport, and we are going to Boston, I hope, if nothing happens. Do you want to go to Boston ?” “T want to go to Chelsea.” “Chelsea! ‘Oh, you’re all right, then, and very fortunate in having secured a seat. How the cars are crowded, to be _ sure—half the poor wretches will have to stand. That comes Chelsea ?” — *No, Rockledge, New Tork. ei “Ah! I don’t know it. You're sick, ain’t you? You do look dreadfully miserable!” _.-~Estella pressed her hand to her burning forehead. That | ~ eeaseless, terrible pain was still there; but this morning she seemed to be one unutterable pain from head to foot. ““My head aches,” she said, confusedly. “It feels all wrong and stupid, somehow. I’ m not used to traveling—to being exposed. _[’m airaid I’m going to be ill!” Her companion drew back a little, with a look of alarm. “It’s not catching, is it? I thought you looked sick when you came on board last night. It’s not fever, or small-pox, ig or anything ?”’ “No,” replied Estella, drowsily;° “only I’m tired, and I | think Pye eaught cold. I ache all over, and my head burns. __ I didn’t know I was sick before.” _ And then her voice died away, and the poor head dropped, and that dull stupor came over her again, and she saw and heard nothing distinctly. , Some one came and took her ticket and spoke to her, and Me? ‘there was a great deal of noise, and a sickening, uneasy mo- Se oa an everywhere ; but nothing was real—nothing was distinct. Me ~ Prese ratly, she was standing on the peace borne along of opposition lines and cheap traveling. Do you belong to BGS 7 ae a i . | Eomicbhooks,co