Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 329: what you’re looking at

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

dl2 , REYNOLDS’ WORKS “This is a beautiful pistol, and an excellent maker’s name, too, — one of the first in London.’’ ‘Yes, they are first-rate pistols,’ observed Staunton, turning aside to put on a shooting-jacket in which he was voing on his fishing expedition. “ Where is the other pistol?’ asked the squire; “‘ there ought to be a pair. It would be a great pity to lose one. Divides: one of these days you and I will have a shooting- match. I will order my groom to bring over some pigeons from the hall— But where is the other pistol?” he again asked. “Oh, I left it behind in London,’’ responded Staunton, now bending over a long wooden case which contained some fisning apparatus for which he had sent a few days previously from Gainsborough, ‘Oh, no matter,’’ said the squire. ‘“‘ I have got a splendid calletinen of aan and when we do have our match, I will bring over a eouple of rifles, which will be better ‘ian pistols. “Are you a good shot, Staunton? I mean with pistols.” ‘“ [— [| — am considered to be so. But confound this fishine-rod! there is something wrong with it.” ‘“‘ Lot me see,” said the squire, hastening forward to render his assistance. ‘“‘ I know all about fishing-tackle, and if I had known you wanted it, could have lent you a better gear than that— But, good heavens! my dear fellow, what is the matter with you?’ for Lord Harold’s countenance was as white as a sheet, and upon it was an expression of indescribable anguish, blended even with horror. “ Nothing, nothing, only those pains,” was the quick and somewhat excited response. | “Ah!” rejoined the good-hearted squire, “‘ you must really take care of yourself, Staunton. You were perhaps more shaken than any of us fancied at the time. But let us look at this rod. There! now it is all right, and I must be off, for 1t’s past three o’clock. Do take care of yourself. * Not too much exertion, mind! for these sprains and aches and twinges do hang uncommonly about one.” With these words, Mr. Hawkshaw shook Lord Harold cordially by the hand, and then hurried from the chamber. Having threaded the long corridor toward the staircase, he rapidly descended the flight, reached the hall, and issuing Gomicbooks: co