Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 11 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

44 THE PRISONER OF LA ¥VINTRESSE. “Listen; this is my plan. I have bribed Salvetto, the keeper, and he is to have a private carriage at the door of the jail. There will be two strong men inside with ropes—you un derstand.” “ And they wiil strangle him,”—cried Don Carlos with fiend- ish joy. “Oh, no; not so bad as that. We would not commit murder, my boy, becuse Lam old, and the sin would weigh heavily on my conscience. You have heard me tell of La Vintresse.” Don Carlos nodded his head, “Tt was once the most magnificent estate in — environs of Havana. Ah! many a splendid party have I given there, but fire and the cholera, and the hurricane have lent their uni- ted rigor to destroy it. You have no idea of the complete desoliteness of the place. The walls are demolished—the fields have no boundaries—the water has overflowed, and only a part of the house stands, a melancholy ruin, and a part of the negro quarters. In this last, there is a strong room which on the plantation I used as a jail. Ah! you begin to understand. The prospect looks out upon a few stunted palm- trees, the distant hills, and an arid plain. Thefe is not a crea- ture living within a mile, and nobody passes there, for the place has the reputation of being haunted. It is haunted by the spirit of desolation. There is where, at night, I shall have this insulting American conveyed, and he shall learn that he can not annoy a gentleman with impunity here, as in his own land. Old Jose who is cruel enough for any duty, shall live there and take care of him. Jose has a love for the old place, and is just lazy enough to covet such a life. He was born at La Vintresse, and I have had a room prepared forhim. A dreary time it will be for El Americano. He will have no books, no papers, no amusement, little exercise; in fine, he will probably go mad, for I shall take an opportfnity to sup- ply him with news, and of no very cheerful kind.” “Guardian, that is a magnificent plan and worthy of your genius,” cried Don Carlos, his green and black eyes kindling. “ But,” his face grew grave again—“ we are no nearer to find- ing Senora Minerva. She has escaped us. Signor Abrates writes me nothing encouraging.” comic ooks.com