Beadle's Dime Novels No. 127: Bald Eagle — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

HONOR. | 5d if a Stout heart heart and good horse can double the ram- Parts of Ramapo unscathed, I shall go through. Farewell.” © put spurs to his horse, and was away as he spoke; but proce wheeling round, he returned to the side of Ham- Uton, “ My friend, I have quarreled with my mistress, and with- held the truth of my mission from my mother; I would have YOu set me well with these, in case”—the young man dashed 4 tear from his eye as he spoke, and Hamilton replied only Y & warm pressure of the hand. Montagnie at first rode on with a speed adapted to the ex- Cited state of his own feelings. But as the noble scenery of the Hudson opened before him, and his eyes wandered away Where mountain swelled beyond mountain in the distance, a Sense of individual nothingness grew upon him, while nature, the great material world, loomed into a gloomy vastness, a sol- €mn and overwhelming magnitude, crushing and grinding him down like the omnipotence of a fate. Gradually, the rein Slackened, and he moved mechanically onward, feeling him- Self impelled to a certain doom. Montagnie was young in years, with a strong and buoyant physique, through which the finer elements played with a readiness of response like that of the wind-harp to the passing breeze—and as the melody of water and wild bird found their way to his ear, his mood changed to one of human interest. What wonder, then, that Montagnie looked upon the earth, beholding a new beauty therein; that his own nature felt anew its capacity for enjoyment, and its terrible counterpart for suffering! What wonder that his nerves recoiled from the trial before him, and he grasped at life as a thing he Could not resign; he in the flush of youth and vigor, with hope, and love, and honor before him! Ay! the last— honor—he ground his tecth at the thought—a gorgeous bauble, understood only by the few, and graced always by the funeral garlands of its victims! Idleas it seemed to him now, the word had its spell of power, and carried him be- yond the momentary weakness; again he lost himself in the urgencies of life—again he felt his own subordination to the Sood of others, “It must be,” he said, “that the few will be sacrificed to connicloooks.com