Pulp Fiction, 1862 · page 38 of 130
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 37: Godbold, the Spy — page 38: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1862. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
66 GIDEON GODBOLD. eloquently by your kindness, that I am your sister, and your _ father’s daughter, and that I ought not to revolt against - @ither’ sisterly or paternal claim. These are the generous sentiments you would urge, and they are acceptable to my heart, and are at this moment immovable from my soul. I am sister to my Isabelle, and daughter to her father; but it {sin love. There is an innate feeling belonging to na ture from our birth, of self-reliance, of independ a “Tut! tut! tut!” exclaimed Mr. Ormond, suddenly - ing the apartment. “What is the matter, Alice? Are you prisoner, that Horace has seized one hand, and Isabelle the othef? Release my poor daughter instantly, and when she has related to me her sorrows, I will inflict a punishment that will prevent any repetition of the offense.” “ Ah, my dear sir,” said Alice, “ you well know how im sible it is for Isabelle or Horace to speak an dinutad Seed 10 me; but I will not conceal from you that I was to interest Horace on the subject of my claim to my father’s property.” -— “T have some interest with General Washington,” said Mr. Ormond, “and will use it for your advantage, Alice. A few words with you, Horace, or, perhaps, we will defer it until the evening.” “T received my orders at nine this morning to leave delphia at eleven,” said Horace. - “ Indeed !” exclaimed Mr. Ormond; “ with what frightful rapidity you military men do move. Why, you leave the parlor for the battle-field, and the battle-field for eternity, with as much sang froid—for, now that the French are among us, I suppose we must use a little of their’ language—as I should read the event in a newspaper. Isabelle, never marry a sol- diér,” he said, slyly. “But,” he continued, pulling Horace teward another part of the room, which Isabelle observing, led Alice to the window, “can you mettion this affair to the General? Tell him that Alice is an orphan, without a cent, bu’ witn feelings and beauty worthy of a scepter. Tell him tha: the recovery of her father’s property is life or death te her ; that she is the daughter of Manuel Faith, and that I am Milea Ormond; that if he remembers the errors of the one, he must not forget the favors of the other; that I advanced ‘ Comichooks: com .