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Pulp Fiction, 1881 · page 47 of 107

The Wrong Man — page 47: what you’re looking at

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The Wrong Man — page 47: Pulp Fiction, 1881

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- ne ul s 3 . rn Meee e . 74. eo) (Fo % é » Wed Pa « - -t@ sa THE PURSUIT. 49 en his hinder feet with a caracole so sudden and violent as a inevitably have thrown a less practiced rider to the und. e Voiled in thts attempt, he leaped from the saddle, and, throw- ing the bridle over the branch of a tree at the roadside, he raised the maiden in his arms, and sprung down the descent, till, reach- ing a small level place, or rather hollow, in the side of the bank, occasioned by the fall of a huge uprooted oak, he hastily bound the girl to one of the jagged points of the tree. This done, he clambered as swiftly as possible up the hillside, remounted his horse, and reining him into an easy gallop, continued along the, road. The approaching horseman had by this time drawn so near that the two were only prevented from seeing each other by an intervening bend in the road. This was quickly passed by the putsuer, and the old man came suddenly in sight of the wretch | whom he had so much ground for believing had stolen away his niece. It was the wish of the hunter, no doubt, to assume - an appearance of unconcern, as if unconscious of ay offense ; yet, guilty-like, he continued to gallop forward, unable to sum- mon sufficient cffrontery to turn and face the person he had in- jured. The loud voice of the old man now rung through the arches of the forest, calling upon the villain to halt. Thus com- minanded, Overton paused, and was yet in the act of wheeling his horse, when Enoch Sedley rode up to his side. ; “Where is my child, my Lucy? Villain, give me my child!” cried he, in a voice of terrible energy, seizing, as he spoke, the burly form of Overton by the collar. “What should I know about your child?’ muttered the hunter, seeking to release himself from the grasp. “ What should I care about her? If she is gone, she has run off with the Yankee, I reckon.” “Villain, you lie! You have stolen her away—you thought to carry her to New Orleans, and force her to your purposes— you have her now secreted in these woods. Oh, lead me to ! No, no, you shall not shake me off—lead me toher! Oh, give me back my child !” a “ Look here, Enoch Sedley, hold off your hands. I haven't got your niece—I don’t know nothing about her. If the gal’s one, ask the Yankee for her ; he'll be willing to return her by time, I reckon. I’ve suspicioned him a long while of being everthick with her, and this proves it.” Scoune:sl and liar!” exclaimed the old man, his passion ' mounting into fury, “either my Lucy, or your life! These old arms are strong enough to a an injury like this.” Sefiley’s heart was too full —his brain throb bing with the + too frenzied and exciting to allow of much variety of en. or copiousness cS adjuration. The words of deep passion are few and simple; slight emotions express hensive Comicbooks-co! 7 yo. & ae Fae a Lae, » . S ~ if . a Pe a with