Beadle's Dime Novels No. 13 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

54 CEDAR SWAMP; OR, WILD NAT’S BRIGADE. CHAPTER IX. THE CONSUMMATION OF THE CRIME. Dank night settled around the dwelling of the widow Vale. The clouds of an approaching storm obscured the moon. Only ' a chance ray would beam out, like a beautiful face from be- hind the black of a mourning vail. The summerreeze blow- ing strongly would softly lift the plain white curtain that hung at the open window of Catherine’s room; and then, as if ashamed of the thought of entering the chamber, would drop it with a sigh of regret. The heat, for the season of the year, was by no seach oppressive, and the inmates of the house were buried in deep slumber, for the hour was late. Good eyes might have failed to detect the three men steal- ing up to the house ; moving, with noiseless steps, through the darkness. | - "he horses had been left by the road-side, Where there was little daxiger of their being discovered—the darkness was too thick, the road too little frequented. The three men were, Turner, Blanchard, and another ; one proposed as an assistant, hy Tom, and for whose faithfulness that gentleman expressed his willingness to go bail. . Wake! lady, wake! A viper has drawn his loathsome form ever the window sill, and now gloats over his prey! _ To call now were in vain. With a hand of iron, the man places a bandage over the maiden’s mouth, while he tightly erasps her throat, choking back her scream of terror. Tom. Blanchard was now at his side ; and, together, they quickly but silently secured their vicim. , Carefully wrapping the bed- clothes about the form of the half-strangled girl, they bore her away to- where the horses were waiting. The inmates of the house—Mrs. Vale and a couple of black servants—remained buried in @ profound slumber; Catherine could give no outcry, and even faithful old Lion was strangely comicbooks.conm