When London Sleeps — page 228: what you’re looking at

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

A GUARD OF THE HEATHEN. 993 fixed unwaveringly upon his darkened face, with its wild, bloodshot eyes. ‘‘I shall not be the first woman who met her death at the hands of a pie coward.’’ ‘Silence!’ thundered Haynes, furiously. “A cur! A blackleg!’’? proceeded Queenie, with scathing emphasis. With a howl of rage, Haynes darted toward her and caught her rod otile by the shoulders, ‘‘Help me, Mark!” he shrieked. “Throw her on the altar.’? Blackwood came forward. “Man! what are you going to do?”’? he asked in low, tense tones. “Show her how the Hindoos burn their women. In a moment the fire will rise and consume her.’ With all his dormant instinct of manhood aroused, Mark Blackwood swung Queenie behind him. Then he faced defiantly the man who had so long been his master. “No, I’m damned if it shall!’’ he cried, sternly and emphatically. Haynes looked at hum in mingled anger and amazement. ‘Vou defy me.”’ But the slave had broken his shackles forever. ‘Vou’re not aman! You’rea fiend! Before I'll stand by and witness such a barbarous deed, I'll die myself. ’” (CA! breathed Queenie, gratefully. ‘Heaven has sent mé a protector!” a) > EGY icbooks: co Yue . Be wl - - “, 4 : at" ‘ i —_ , Pa am ee t 3 7 4 = J