text_original: "'Tis he, there can be no doubt," rejoined Auriol, in a sombre tone. "Who and what is he, then?" demanded Ebba. "He is a messenger of ill," replied Auriol, "and I am thankful he is gone." [Illustration: The Iron merchant's Daughter.] "Are you quite sure of it?" she asked, glancing timorously up and down the road. But the mysterious individual could no longer be seen. "And so, after exciting my curiosity in this manner, you will not satisfy it?"
text_transcription: TIS HE THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT REJOINED AUREOLE IN A SOMBRE TONE WHO AND WHAT IS HE THEN DEMANDED EBBA HE IS A MESSENGER OF ILL REPLIED AUREOLE AND I AM THANKFUL HE IS GONE ARE YOU QUITE SURE OF IT SHE ASKED GLANCING TIMOROUSLY UP AND DOWN THE ROAD BUT THE MYSTERIOUS INDIVIDUAL COULD NO LONGER BE SEEN AND SO AFTER EXCITING MY CURIOSITY IN THIS MANNER YOU WILL NOT SATISFY IT
phonemes: "tˈɪz hiː, ðɛɹ kæn biː nˈoʊ dˈaʊt," ɹᵻdʒˈɔɪnd ˈɔːɹɪˌɑːl, ɪn ɐ sˈɑːmbɚ tˈoʊn. "hˌuː ænd wˈʌt ɪz hiː, ðˈɛn?" dᵻmˈændᵻd ˈɛbə. "hiː ɪz ɐ mˈɛsɪndʒɚɹ ʌv ˈɪl," ɹᵻplˈaɪd ˈɔːɹɪˌɑːl, "ænd aɪɐm θˈæŋkfəl hiː ɪz ɡˈɔn." [ˌɪləstɹˈeɪʃən: ðɪ ˈaɪɚn mˈɜːtʃənts dˈɔːɾɚ.] "ɑːɹ juː kwˈaɪt ʃˈʊɹ ʌv ɪt?" ʃiː ˈæskt, ɡlˈænsɪŋ tˈɪmɚɹəsli ˌʌp ænd dˌaʊn ðə ɹˈoʊd. bˌʌt ðə mɪstˈɪɹiəs ˌɪndᵻvˈɪdʒuːəl kʊd nˌoʊ lˈɑːŋɡɚ biː sˈiːn. "ænd sˈoʊ, ˈæftɚɹ ɛksˈaɪɾɪŋ maɪ kjˌʊɹɹɪˈɔsᵻɾi ɪn ðɪs mˈænɚ, juː wɪl nˌɑːt sˈæɾɪsfˌaɪ ɪt?"