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BRADSHAW THE BETRAYER. 55
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
.+. " Oh Doricles ! Your Praises Are Too...
mastery over every fibre of ray frame , and never flinched , though the effort "was agony . but
" It's very well done , " said Ambroise between his teeth ; " it ' s not real . No man could have slept through the noise we ' ve made . "
" Yes he could , if he'd been drinking , " replied Paul . " Don't you see he has gone to bed in his clothes , and isn't that a proof of
the state he was in when he came up ? " " Proof or no proof , " said Ambroise with a terrible imprecation ,
" I'll" He broke off abruptly , and I heard a click , like the opening of a
, clasp At -knife this . moment I gave myself up for lost , and a dead cold
gathered " Give at me my the heart knife . The , " I n heard Paul in him terposed say . again " I'll . test him , and
then . . . . " His voice dropped to a whisper ; there was a muttered argument ;
a pause ; a moment of maddening suspense ! Then the quilt was pulled back , a hot breath ruffled the hair upon my brow-, and a
keen , cold , deadly edge , fine as the edge of a razor , was drawn slowl The y quiver across my of an thro eyelid at . , the flutter of a breath -would have
betrayed me ; but the love of life was stronger than the fear of death , and Paul , thank burst God into ! I a lay loud passive laugh and , and placid tossed as before the knife . back to its
owner . " Ivre-mort _, pardieu ! " said he . " I'd as soon suspect the walls of
listening ! " Ambroise " You're too muttered easy" an he angry said sullenl oath , and y . turned " There away 's nothing . like a
, dead At man this ' moment s tongue a to long keep shrill a secret whistle ! " echoed under the window
like the wail of a Banshee . bag " ; The the si li gnal ght ! was " cried blown both out in ; a in breath their . eagerness Ambroise heard their to shouldere be gone d the all
else was forgotten ; and the next instant I footsteps tramp To strugg ing down le to the an stairs upri ! ht posture and fall back powerless was all
that I could do . The blessed g sense of safety was too much for me , and I fainted !
* * - * - * * The story of the robbery at Abbeville needs no further repetition
it from my be pen interesting ; but to those to add who that are none not familiar of the with stolen the treasure particular was s
ever may recoveredand neither of the dexterous pilgrims seen or heard of more . The , robbery was committed on the evening of their
flight , and of my trying adventure at St . Valery . It was supposed
Bradshaw The Betrayer. 55
BRADSHAW THE BETRAYER . 55
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Citation
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English Woman’s Journal (1858-1864), March 1, 1858, page 55, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ewj/issues/ewj_01031858/page/55/
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