Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 271 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 271: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful titled "The Duel" (page 253). The text depicts a tense interrogation scene in which a character named Tom is being questioned by a Commandant about his arrest leaving a "Rebel nest on Tradd Street." Tom realizes with mounting horror that an officer whose voice he recognizes—someone named Wemyss—is in an adjoining room and has been summoned to identify him. The passage ends with Tom's despairing realization: "I have betrayed myself!" The narrative emphasizes suspense, military occupation, and Tom's growing sense of imminent danger.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE DUEL 253 _ “Well? Well? Go on, can’t you!” “When it was over, and they were all gone, I picked up that thing on the floor. When I got into the street, — outside of this house, — your Hessian seized me. He spoke no English. ,[ should like to know, Your Lordship, why I am apprehended ?”’ The answer made Jom breathe easier. “The trooper had my orders to arrest any man seen coming out of that Rebel nest on Tradd Street.” This was not so bad. Tom thought release was possible. His Lordship — though distressed by the events of the night, and under a tremendous strain — had shown no severity toward the “missionary.” The myrmidon had picked up the despised “ crow-bait.”’ That was all. But yet —the sense of impending disaster would not down at his bidding! Where was Troupe? Could he be under this roof? The Commandant left the room. As he went out, Tom caught a glimpse of the adjoining apartment — a dining- room, a group of officers standing about a sideboard. Lord Rawdon joined them. The door a little ajar, Tom heard undertoned exclamations. The fan was under in- spection. Said a deep, arrogant voice: “Wolfe would rather have penned Gray’s “Elegy ’ than to have quenched Quebec. I’d give the ring on my hand to have turned that little verse. "I is perfect as a dewdrop.”’ Tom caught his breath. Where had he heard that voice? Now, from the dining-room a mocking chuckle. “Chaplain of the Nancy Ireson? Oh, Lud! Ah, ha, ha!’’ Lord Rawdon’s voice was distinct. “‘Fellow expects an endorsement from some of you — who was it?” He came back into the library. “You mentioned some officer on my staff who could identify you?” “Colonel Wemyss knows me, Your Lordship.” “Habersham, ring the bell.” ‘To the servant who ap- peared Lord Rawdon said, “Say to Colonel Wemyss the Commandant desires to speak to him.” Tom bit his lip till the blood started. Fool, fool, fool that he’d been! Wemyss here! “I have betrayed myself!” GOMmMiGcdoo SS (C©) im