Beadle's Dime Novels No. 126: Old Jupe — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

LUKE IN NEW BRISTOL. 95 in which she boarded burned down, and, in leaping from a window, she was fatally injured. She revived long enough to bear witness to the truth; and died, saying that Mary would . forgive her. Can you, Mary ? “This was last July. I started, with Jupe, in the next steam- er for the States; but my mental powers had been long over- tasked by grief, and I had wilfully neglected my physical health ; the consequence was that [ was unfit to bear the the great re- vulsion of feeling which came upon me. I was ill when we reached Panama, and having to wait there several days fora vessel on the other side, in the hot weather, the fever took hold of my system, (so well prepared for it), and when the ship sailed, I was unable to go on. “IT was very ill—unconscious for weeks—and it is to Jupe’s skillful nursing that I owe my life. It was late in November before I came out of that long struggle with strength enough to dare the ocean, At last I left that hateful, wearisome place ; we flew over the ocean; at last my foot was on shore again, at New York. We hastened on, Jupe, my faithful attendant, reaching Jefferson City the day you were liberated. Isaw you, my Mary, your pale, sweet face; your dignified, resigned bear- ing; and I loved and honored you as we honor the saints and martyrs of old. Every pang which you haye suffered makes you the dearer to me. “Ah, believe that I, too, have known days and night of agony. You will see it in my face, if you say that I may come to you. I was so near you when you were in. the stage, yet refrained from speaking to you. At the last moment, | was a coward ; and there were always strangers present. I wanted to stealinto the coach, at night, and hold you in my arms, I knew you must be so tired. I made Jupe stay behind for the next stage, lest he should betray us. ‘“ Last night !—ah, Mary, my wife, that is an angel-child of ours! I must say ours. Can you keep me from him ?—can you keep me from our child, my wife ? : “T have written this since I saw you go into the house at midnight. I will send it, with all its faults, and wait here un- til you return me some answer. I will not come to you until you bid me. Lux.” It is not difficult to guess what the wife’s answer was to be. Arising, with the letter in her hand, she stepped out into . the family-room, and said to her mother ; “ Luke is in New Bristol. He wants to come and sce his boy.” i “And are you going to allow it ?” “Yes, mother.” * Comiclbooks.corn