Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 378 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 378: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis: Running Prose from Victorian Penny Dreadful This is a page of running prose text (page 358) from *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil*, a Victorian penny dreadful. The narrative describes a tense moment where Tom and companions have obtained passports, but two men (Troupe and Peake) possess only questionable credentials signed by "Nathanael Greene." A British troop departs with dispatches, and Tom fears a raid on Oxheart House—Audley Anderson's Virginia plantation—where defenseless people remain. The Major experiences conflicting loyalties between devotion to Tom and loyalty to his sovereign. Tom then diplomatically praises the Major's diplomacy regarding someone named Simcoe, and the group decides to shelter near an abandoned log meetinghouse in the woods.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
358 | Tom ANDERSON, Dare-DeEvIL The papers were produced. They were sufficient. Major MclIntosh’s passport was signed by Lord Rawdon; the other three bore the signature and seal of “Mulgrave, Governor-General of Barbados, St. Lucia, St. Vincent, Tobago, the Grenadines, and their respective dependen- cies.’ The passports were returned with a salutation that made Tom breathe again. But Troupe and Peake! They, poor fellows, had no credentials but sixty-day leaves signed — alas! —“‘ Nathanael Greene.” Each was slapped up at a trooper’s crupper. A bugle signal. The troop of horse trotted away, followed by an endless force. A Brit- ish raid! The undelivered dispatches! Troupe a prisoner! And what if that “red rout” fell upon Oxheart? Oh, the defenseless ones there! Tom’s pulses shrank. A presentiment gripped him. “Shall I ever see Oxheart again? If I ever do, it will be many a long day first.’”” Aloud he said: “‘ By night they'll be at Oxheart. Audley Anderson’s home won't be spared. He’s too good a Virginian. Oxheart House will be an ash- heap in twenty-four hours!” They stared at him. De la Jonquiére’s blue eyes were stern; his nostrils dilated like a stag’s at bay. Unaka’s smouldering eyes watched that ominous cloud of dust wal- lowing away toward the Blue Ridge. The Major — for the first time confused by his position — twisted his beard. His devotion to [om and his loyalty to his sovereign had seemed to him in no wise incompatible fealties — up to now! For the first time in his life he found himself in a position where he must hold his tongue. It was a severe condition. Tom stretched forth his hand. “Major, you are a born diplomat. ‘The way you talked to Simcoe commands our admiration. McIntosh forever!’? Whereat Rory was better pleased with himself than ever before in his life. Tom said they were not many miles from Dr. Walker’s plantation. Back yonder was a tumbledown log meeting- house; close by, a good spring. They pushed through the woods, found the ruin, and tied their horses inside the ECONMMICOOOKS.(€© m