Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 385 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 385: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful (page 365). The text describes the aftermath of an attempted murder on someone named Leslie. A character named Dare realizes she has made a terrible mistake—she insulted a wounded man, believing him to be a "General Leslie" leading an invasion, when he was actually her beloved Arthur. The passage reflects on how events repeat themselves in life, with Dare now anxiously waiting for news of Arthur's condition while her grandmother Mrs. Anderson lies confined to her bedroom.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Who was IT? 365 nothing on which to found conjecture. A sentinel was pacing the piazza at the moment of the attack on Leslie. No one had been seen to leave the house. Said Dr. Pratt: “It is a diabolical mystery. What will happen if the man who tried to murder Leslie is not found out, the Lord only knows!” He went back to the wounded Englishman, and had the satisfaction of bidding Colonel Banastre Tarleton “stand aside.” A sentinel had been placed at the door of Leslie’s room; another paced noiselessly below the window. The dining-room had become a stormy council-chamber. What the upshot of this disaster would be, who dared guess? Secret as the bloody attack had been, it would not go unpunished. As soon as she could escape from camphor and sal volatile, Dare went upstairs to Mrs. Anderson’s room. Kneeling by grandmother’s pillow, pressing grandmother’s hand against her cheek she gave way to passionate self- reproach. “Madam, it was my stupid blunder. I thought he’d been promoted. I was certain ‘General Leslie’ was our Arthur! — leading an invading army on Richmond! I said such scornful, hateful things to him, grandmother. Oh, he will die, and never know it was all a dreadful mis- take! Never know how sorry I am! Oh! poor wounded boy!” Her grief was bitter. It wrung her like remorse. Events have a queer way of reénacting themselves in _ this queer world. Experiences — tremendous ones some- times — have their exits; and we say, “That’s over and done; forever.”’ And presently, from new entrances, in new make-up, they steal before the footlights; and lo! the old play is on again. Some glimmering of this truth dawned on Dare’s sick introspection now. Once more Arthur, wounded unto death, was sheltered at Oxheart. Once more Mrs. Anderson was a prisoner in her bedroom, unable to conduct the affairs of her troubled household. And once more Dare and the devoted Dilsey trembled for Mrs. Anderson, Mimi and Dr. Pratt watched over Captain Leslie.. Would Mimi never come and tell her how Arthur was? She needed no warning to be scantier of her CORNICOOO SS (CO) im