Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 11 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

THE PRIVATE KEY OF THE GARDEN. 89 the stranger, looking after her. “Still, I do not see the re- semblance to your son—” “Oh, na! my daughter and my husband are both in Wash- ington,” said Mrs. Goreham, quickly; “this young lady is a friend of Jessie's.” “Your husband has gone on business connected with your son's dissppearance, I believe ? will he remain long ?” “Not more than two or three weeks,” was the reply. “Alas! I have almost given up all hope of my son’s safety. Several circumstances have occurred to make us apprehensive that there has been foul play somewhere.” “Tt is very sad, very sad,’ said the clergyman; apply- ing a snowy handkerchief to the rim visible around his spectacles. “He was a most noble specimen of manhood. Thanks to him that I am alive. Iam really grateful to add also, though I hope you will not think it egotism in me, that I was so for- tunate as to save him from the wrath of a Danish governor, once, who, for the breach of some trivial etiquette, which he thought Mr. Goreham had intentionally committed, threatened him with prison, and I know not what other extremes. Very fortunately, I belonged to the same secret orderwith him, and by my making it known, added to other interference, your son was set at liberty.” : ~ —- “T thank you,” said Mrs. Goreham, holding out her hand. “ Any courtesy shown to my son, I consider as shown to me.” The man arose to go. Just then, the moon nearly at its fall, threw its soft light across the room, enveloping the stately figure of the stranger, with a misty, tremulous light. “TJ trust, madam, I am not asking too much, when I say it would gratify me exceedingly to walk over your grounds, at my liberty. Pray do not consider me bold, but I have heard much of their beauty.” “ With the utmost pleasure,” said Mrs. Goreham, whose heart was overflowing toward the reverend friend of her son ; “You shall. have our own private key.” She drew a bunch from her pocket, an: slipping off the largest, handed it to him. At that very instant, as he grasped it, somewhat overeagerly, in his long, white fingers, it occurred to her that she might be doing a very imprudent thing. But there was no danger, at comicbooks.com