Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

> —. : i e. | ead ah * . THE YOUTHFUL PAIR. 8 ~ ; chief. The capture of the raft had been a damaging blow - “ rr to them, and Austen knew that it would take some days to a make another of the same kind. Bill Epps remained in aie J the hut by hineself most of the time, though Chenango spent 5 some hours each day with him, maturing plans for the de- =" fense of the old man and his beautiful duughter, Each day ae the girl showed more and more the natural graces of soul a which were hers, and Laurence Austen plunged more and os more into the mazes of that mad passion of love, but did ao not speak of it. He was certain that this girl was born in “4 another sphere of action, fer she had read much and traveled — . in lands of which he had only heard and read. They had a i a few choice books in the cave, and the two would sit upon x the rocky headlands, screened from the view of those on ox shore, and read from those rare old poets, which both loved so ee well, and enjoy it too, in spite of the cloud which threat- = ened them. She would not speak of her past life, though he hinted at it often. =) = “Do not ask me of that,” she said at length. “It would ; = = not become my father or myself to boast of what we have | zee been or of the glories of other days. Enough that it is past and in all human probability we shall never mingle in —__ the society of which my father was once the pride and . “ You fear this masked chief? Do you know him ?” va JF can not tell. My father is in doubt too, and perhaps after all he does not seek us. Perhaps our fears are not : well founded.” 4 “Can you think of any one whose interest it is to find fics “TI can think of one whose interest it is that we should = be buried from the world, and who would rejoice to know <S that the last of the race had found a quiet grave, from which e they could never rise to give him pain. But, why could he not let us rest? My father would never have troubled him, and we would have lived out our lives in quiet, happyin each other’s love. I can not think that he is the one, nor is he like the man you describe as the masked chief.” On the afternoon of the fourth day after the eapture of oe raft, she was sitting alone in asecluded part of the island, —