Witch Hazel; or, The Secret of the Locket — page 269: what you’re looking at

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

| with indignation, while she still clung with botharnis- to her friend. “Hush, Belle, you do not know what you are talk- ing about,” returned her mother, sternly. ‘‘An of- fense of this kind cannot be condoned; if we did not make an example of criminals, no one would be safe. Go to your own room, Belle, while I help Miss Gay get ready to go.” . “Mamma—mamma, you ever shall let her go to prison,” Belle cried, wringing ber hands in an agony of grief. “At least, let her be free till she is tried— give bonds for her—take all that belonga to me, my whole fortune, only save her from /hat,”' “Leave the room, Belle,’ repeated Mrs. Stewart, sternly. Then, as she did not obey, but continued to cling to Hazel, she took her foreibly by the arm, led her out, and shut the door after her. Tho officer stepped into the hall, saying that he would remain there until Hazel waa ready. Mrs, Stewart helped her to gather up a few neces- aary articles to take with her, saying that she would repack her trunk, and it shonld be at her disposal at any future time when she required it. Then Hazel went forth from her pretty room where she had been so happy during the last few weeks; but she looked very little like a criminal, with that quiet dignity of manner, and that pure, bewupiful face. which was asinnocent as @ child’s. The usunily stoical detective, as he looked upop her, for once in his life felt a positive hatred of his duty and apparent auccess; it seemed almost like a sacrilegious act to lend this fair girl away to prison. Ashe preceded her down stairs, and was about to conduct her from the honse, a gure suddenly pre- seuted itself in the open door-way. Tt was Lord Nelson Hartwell. The next moment there was a scream, a hysterical soh, a rushing of nervous feet, and Belle threw her- self, weeping, into the young man's arms, (TO BR CONTINUED.) Gomiichooks.com