Witch Hazel; or, The Secret of the Locket — page 352: what you’re looking at

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

and—and I think it’s mighty queer they should be on your’n, too.” “Let me see your arm,” commanded the inyalid. The sailor turned back the sleeve of his Goarse woolen shirt, aud on his brown, brawny arm there could plainly be seen characters ideutical with those on Charlie Harwood’s. He reached out and laid his beside it. “They are exactly alike; 1t seeins as if the same hand arewst have traced them,” he said, with a troubled face. **You gay there had been a terrible storm just before your vessel was wrecked,” he added, after a moment. Gs. Sit “What season of the year was it ?” *‘Late in the fall, sir—in November.” ‘November of what year?” The man considered before 1eplying. “T think it were in 1861,” he said at last. “Cun you remeber the day of the month?’ “Tt were the 29th, sir.” Charlie Harwood started to a sitting posture at this, his face flushed, a tremor of neryous excitement rui- ning through him, His mind suddenly reverted to that wild night in November, several years previous, when, in their quiet, Inxurious library, Sir Henry, with his wife aud himself, had sat about the table and listened to the furious storm of rain and wind asit beat upon the windows. He remeibered how his mother bad been affected; how she had asked his father if it was not the twenty-ninth, and upon his responding in the affirmative. she began to say it made her think of something, when her husband checked her. He re¢alled how he had asked her if she was eyer j a storm at sea, and she had told him pes HOR eee