ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Penny Dreadfuls, 1900 · page 229 of 321

Between Snow and Fire — page 229: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Between Snow and Fire — page 229: Penny Dreadfuls, 1900

A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1900. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a 7h he ‘pea ‘pia rH AND-— 70 DEA TH. «< } *9 “ Quick, quick! Every moment lost is a life ! “T will not. We will die together. I will not live with- out you,” and the heroic flash in the grand eyes was visible in the starlight. L The stealthy footsteps were now plainly atidible. They could not have beén two hundred yards distant. Suddenly the horse, catching a renewed access of panic, plucked the reins from Eustace’s hand, and careered wildly away ifto the ve/dt. ‘The last. chance of escape was cut off. They must die together now. Facing round, crouching low be- hind the broken-down vehicle, they listened for the approach of the pursuers. All the bitterness of the moment was upon those two— upon him especially—crouching there in the dark and lonely veldt, ‘Their reunion was only to be areunion in death. The last dread act was drawing on. The stealthy steps of the approaching foe were now more distinctly audible. Witha deadly and vengeful fire at his heart, Eustace pre- pared to sell their lives as dearly as ever life was sold. “We need not fear, my sweet one,”” whispered the héroine at his side. “ We are dying together.” Nearetr—nearer, came those cat-like footfalls. Then they ceased. The pulses of the two anxious listeners beat with an intense and surging throb of expectation in the dead silencé. But instead of those stealthy feet, swift to shed blood, there was borne upon the night the sound of horses’ hoofs. Then acrash of firearms, and aringingcheer. No savage war-cry that, but a genuine British shout. “That you, Milne?” cried a familiar voice. “All right: keep cool, old man. Weshan’t hit you by mistake. How many are there?” “I don’t know. Better not tackle them in the dark, Hoste. Who is with you?” “Some Police; But where are the niggers ?” Where indeed? Savages have no stomach for facing un- known odds. Their late assailants had prudently made themselves scarce. “‘We seem to be only just in time, anyway ?”’ said Hoste, with along whistle of consternation as he realised the criti- cal position of affairs. “‘Is Mrs. Carhayes all right?” he added anxiously. “Quite, thanks, Mr. Hoste,” replied Eanswyth. “ But you are, as yousay, only just in time.” a J . + rar aS wy. Sern al : +. = dh F nee s2y CO m comicbooks.com fame *- ft bed ~ 7 “¢