Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 244: what you’re looking at

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

226 Tom ANDERSON, DareE-DEVIL Savage’s for a few minutes at any rate, and then drive straight to Headquarters and prepare for the affair of honor. “Zounds! my dear Sir A’neas, Lady Caroline Ethersey had promised me the first minuet to-night. Between my double obligations —a dance and a duel—I’m in a dickens of a fix.” Sir Aéneas answered absently, “Do you know where thothe Americanth are houthed?”’ “Paroled lot? Oh, yes. In an old rookery close by St. Philip’s — with the bats and owls. ‘Hungry Hall’ they call it. No misnomer, eh?”’ “You don’t know any of ’em, Franthith’” “Those wretched Rebels? Not I. I’ll hasten to intro- duce myself when we get to town. What’s the name of his friend, eh?” “Taliaferro.” “What’s his rank, Sir Aineas? How do they call himt Whole batch, officers.”’ ‘““He’s Captain Taliaferro. There’s no more sham about the rank of those fellows than there is about yours, Colonel; or mine. Gad! Most of the poor devils have waded in blood for years. Wear their titles worthily, too. I’ve encountered lots of ’em in our Southern campaigns.” “How do they starve and fight? ‘That’s an everlasting enigma to me!” propounded Colonel Lloyd. “D’ you know, we never find a commissary officer among our American prisoners. ” “They don’t have em, my dear Franthith. There ’th nothing for a commithary offither to steal!”’ Colonel Lloyd’s laugh reached the ears of a young fellow walking along the road. He quickened his steps, but the coach was abreast of him in a few minutes. Whereupon, recognition. / “Oh, I thay,’”’ murmured the baronet, “ith he going to hoof it back to the thity? — and then meet a thwordth- man! Damme, thir! It ith a beathtly shame!”’ Troupe had paused to let the carriage pass. He faced Gomicbooks: Go m