Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 257 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 257: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose (page 239) from a Victorian penny dreadful titled *The Duel*. The text consists of dialogue and narrative describing characters' movements and a confrontation at a church. McIntosh and another character (apparently named Tom) discuss how they located someone taking sanctuary at St. Michael's kirk, involving a young well-dressed man, a dog named Luath, and an elderly sexton. The passage uses Scottish dialect throughout and contains references to stolen church keys and suspicious circumstances surrounding someone named Valentine Paris's death.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Tue Duet | 239 back to you about daybreak, and then over the border to Sumter.’ A sore burden had been lifted from McIntosh’s honest heart. “lam mair thankfw’ than I can say ye’d nae hand 1 the wicked wark. There’s sic an uproar ower his takkin’- off that the mon whilk made an end o’ Valentine Paris is like to swing before breakfast the morn.”’ “Well, my hands are clean. But I didn’t care to fall under suspicion. So I took the benefit of sanctuary! How you found me —”’ “Is the lad clean daft? Luath found ye. Not at ance. We dawdlit aboot for twa hours, trying to find ye. But when we cam anigh St. Michael’s, she pit her nose til the ground wi muckle confidence. Ou, aye; she gae’d up til the kirk door at a gallop. An’ there was standin’ as bonny a young spark as ye hae ever clappit your twa een on. A’ silk, an’ velvet, an’ lace; wi’ diamonds enow on his twa shoon to hae victualed an airmy — gin they were sold for siller. The lad was wranglin’ wi a dour auld nigger body ; his wool stickit oot like thot frae his head — white as ony auld dame’s clockmutch. They were claverin’ aboot the kirk-keys.”’ “They are in my pocket, Major,” chuckling. “Aweel, the little popinjay says, says he, in his mag- gerful way, ‘We maun hae the keys, Simeon! Where are they?’ Sae the auld black body speakit up: ‘De debble got de chu’ch keys, Marse Pinckney! Stole ‘em dis ve’y night!’ ‘Aweel,’ the lad says, “1s na there a bolt on the in- side o’ the door?’ Wi’ thot the pretty cock pheasant sees me. He bids the auld sexton ‘Shut up!’ chucks him a handful o’ siller, an’ struts off. Was na he a braw wally- draigle?”’ “And then?” “The twa were na weel awa before Luath was clawin’ at the kirk door. Sae I opened it. An’ the hizzie’s nose led my legs.” Now Tom gave an account of all that took place after he left Rory’s lodgings. McIntosh listened with fierce CORNICLOO@ <S (©) im