Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 05Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 05
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
"That gentleman speaks not more warmly than justly," said the old man,
with some surprise. "He has a countenance which, if physiognomy be a
true science, declares his praise to be no common compliment; may I
inquire his name?"
"Maltravers," replied Cleveland, a little vain of the effect his
ex-pupil's name was to produce.
The curate--for it was he--started and changed countenance.
"Maltravers! but he is not about to leave the county?"
"Yes, for a few months."
Here the host entered. Four horses, that had been only fourteen miles,
had just re-entered the yard. If Mr. Maltravers could spare two to that
gentleman, who had, indeed, pre-engaged them?
"Certainly," said Cleveland; "but be quick."
"And is Lord Vargrave still at Mr. Merton's?" asked the curate, musingly.
"Oh, yes, I believe so. Miss Cameron is to be married to him very
shortly,--is it not so?"
"I cannot say," returned Aubrey, rather bewildered. "You know Lord
Vargrave, sir?"
"Extremely well!"
"And you think him worthy of Miss Cameron?"
"That is a question for her to answer. But I see the horses are put to.
Good-day, sir! Will you tell your fair young friend that you have met an
old gentleman who wishes her all happiness; and if she ask you his name,
say Cleveland?"
So saying, Mr. Cleveland bowed, and re-entered the carriage. But
Maltravers was yet missing. In fact, he returned to the house by the
back way, and went once more into the little parlour. It was something
to see again one who would so soon see Evelyn!
"If I mistake not," said Maltravers, "you are that Mr. Aubrey on whose
virtues I have often heard Miss Cameron delight to linger? Will you
believe my regret that our acquaintance is now so brief?"
As Maltravers spoke thus simply, there was in his countenance, his voice,
a melancholy sweetness, which greatly conciliated the good curate; and as
Aubrey gazed upon his noble features and lofty mien, he no longer
wondered at the fascination he had appeared to exercise over the young
Evelyn.
"And may I not hope, Mr. Maltravers," said he, "that before long our
acquaintance may be renewed? Could not Miss Cameron," he added, with a
smile and a penetrating look, "tempt you into Devonshire?"
Maltravers shook his head, and, muttering something not very audible,
quitted the room. The curate heard the whirl of the wheels, and the host
entered to inform him that his own carriage was now ready.
"There is something in this," thought Aubrey, "which I do not comprehend.
His manner, his trembling voice, bespoke emotions he struggled to
conceal. Can Lord Vargrave have gained his point? Is Evelyn, indeed, no
longer free?"
CHAPTER V.
CERTES, c'est un grand cas, Icas,
Que toujours tracas ou fracas
Vous faites d'une ou d'autre sort;
C'est le diable qui vous emporte!*--VOITURE.
* "Certes, it is the fact, Icas, that you are always engaged in
tricks or scrapes of some sort or other; it must be the devil
that bewitches you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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