Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 347: what you’re looking at

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

300 REYNOLDS’ WORKS caring whither he went. On, on he walked at a quick pace, for the excitement of his mind was still sufficiently strong to make him proceed thus hurriedly; but it never once occurred to him to cast a glance around and assure himself whether he were proceeding toward Gainsborough or not. In this strange condition of mind, the youth continued his way through the fields. Another hour had passed; again he looked at his watch, — it was seven o’clock. Yet, it was only in a sort of mechanical manner that he thus thought of the time, when he did not think of the path that he was pursuing, but presently the thought suddenly flashed across his memory that he was thus wandering aimlessly and with- out purpose. He now stopped short and looked all around. paxondale Castle was no longer to be seen, nor was he near any town that might be Gainsborough. He was in the wide, open country, with here and there a few isolated cottages dotting the beautiful landscape. . He began _ to compute that he must have walked some six or seven miles since parting from Juliana. He felt weary and faint, alike from fatigue and want of food, but he had no appetite, he craved nothing, he was sick at heart. He must, however, get back to Gainsborough as soon as possible, for his valet Edward, who had accompanied him into Lincolnshire, ’ would be uneasy at his protracted absence. Bending his _ steps toward the nearest cottage, which was still at least half a mile distant, Francis Paton thus reasoned with himself: ‘Instead of giving way to sorrowful feelings, I ought to thank Heaven for having followed my excellent father’s advice and put Juliana to this test. Perhaps if I had at once told her that I had found parents who were enabled to give me a fortune, she would have consented to marry me, and, oh, what an alliance would it have proved! Better, better far to place a viper in my bosom. Could I have ex- pected that as a wife she would remain faithful to me? Ah! I should have believed it, I should have put confidence in her, — my soul would have given her all its most loving trust, — and some day, sooner or later, I should have been startled from my dream, I should have awakened to find myself deceived. Oh, it is a fortunate escape, and one that should fill my heart with gratitude instead of with useless repinings! But yet, but yet, it is hard to have had the golden bowl of hope thus rudely dashed from my lips to be broken Gomicbooks (EO)