Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 11 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

110 THE PRISONER OF LA VINTRESSE. with a stare of cool impudence, awaited his communication. “T have come on the behalf of a young lady who is a countrywoman of yours,” said the farmer, sitting entirely at his ease, and returning the don’s cool stare with a glance every whit as cool. “ Ah!” ejaculated the Cuban, while the general’s newspaper rattled as he turned it; “what does the young lady wish?” and he puffed again, this time regarding the ceiling abstractedly. “J ean not tell what she wishes,” said the farmer, whose warm feelings were rapidly getting the better of him; “ but, in plain terms, a young lady, by name Minerva de Monserate, e has been abducted from my home, where she was placed for safe keeping; and, I have no doubt, you know enongh of the affair, to inform me if she is in good hands, at least.” The paper rattled again with an exultant motion, while the don, very slowly removing the pipe from his mouth, turned contemptuous eyes upon the farmer, as he said: 7 “Old man, what do you suppose I know about young la- dies who find an asylum at your house ?” “Tf I knew as much as you do about it, I think I could lodge you in an American institution, such as you have not yet visited,” said the old farmer, the hot blood surging to his tem- ples. “It is my firm belief that you are here under an as- sumed name, and that you have either abducted the young lady of whom I speak, and who was to have been married to my son, for whose disappearance I shall call you also to ac- count at the proper time.” “ Old fellow, you are insane,” said the don, rising, and inso- lently stretching himself. asi “Don’t you call me old fellow, you rascally foreigner,” cried the farmer, advancing toward hin. “ We American citizens do not allow even Spanish dons to insult us with impunity.” “My good man,” said the little general, fiercely, “do you know who you are talking to?” “ Well, yes, I believe I do,” replied the farmer with bitter emphasis, standing very straight, and looking terribly grand. “T am talking to men who call themselves gentlemen, but haye never learned to treat gray hairs with respect. Id whip my dog Bruno, who is but a brute, if he ‘had so little man- “ners” comicloooks. corm