Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 276 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 276: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 258 of *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil* This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful serialization. The text describes a prisoner named Tom being transported by ship across Caribbean waters as human cargo, stopping at various islands (Antigua, Guadeloupe, Martinique) before arriving at Carlisle Bay, Barbados. A Spaniard removes his irons and brings him on deck; Tom, weakened from imprisonment and poor rations, experiences the shock of sunlight and open air while observing the island's geography—its bay, cocoa palms, town, and Mount Hillaby. The passage reflects Tom's emotional state: he repeatedly reassures himself that loved ones Marion and Rory (and someone named Troupe) remain safe, while obsessing over their welfare.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
258 Tom ANDERSON, DarE-DEVIL that “nethermost hell.”” He girded himself with one say- ing: — “Did n’t I know when I warned Marion that I’d have to risk everything? But Marion is safe. And I kept my mouth shut; so Rory’s safe!’”’ ‘his assurance he repeated over and over, like a prayer. But there were times when his only prayer was “Troupe! Troupe!” “If I only knew that Troupe was safe, I could dance to the trader’s string.” An illustration of what this meant came next day. The hatches being open, the boy wriggled up the ladder for a bit, to suck in the air. Higgins saw him there, and kicked him off. And this “worked like madness in the brain” of the prisoner. The brig put in at English Bay, Antigua, and touched at Guadeloupe and Martinique, leaving at each port a quota of her human cargo. One night in De- cember she dropped anchor in Carlisle Bay. It was hardly daylight when the Spaniard, having removed the prison- er’s irons, led him on deck and bade him open his eyes and stretch his legs. But wasn’t he gaunt? Anguish of spirit and half-rations of mouldy cow-pease do not tend to obesity. Tom’s eyes, accustomed to gloom, found light almost unbearable at first. It was some time before he could be sure of his surroundings. What of it? The sea- wind was in his face! The sun coming! Lo, a new world! Yonder, the Caribbean Sea. Here, the peacock-colored waters of Carlisle Bay, crowded with shipping. And be- fore him, the most easterly of the Caribbee Islands, Bar- bados. Though the near-by coasts — on the north, south, and west — were low and flat, the handsome and flourishing town built around the bay, which was outlined with a belt of noble cocoa palms, was a delight to the eye. Beyond the town the island ascended in abrupt terraces and precipi- tous acclivities to its highest point, Mount Hillaby, which was less than fourteen hundred feet above the waters of the bay. Afterward, when he knew the topography of Barbados, from its dangerous windward reef, “the Cob- blers,’’ — which for protection to the island was worth an Gomicbooks. Go m