“Tush, uncle! I must work hard and get money; and then we will repair
the old tower, and buy back the old estate. My father shall sell the red
brick house; we will fit him up a library in the keep; and we will all
live united, in peace, and in state, as grand as our ancestors before
us.”
While I thus spoke, my uncle’s eyes were fixed upon a corner of the
street, where a figure, half in shade half in moonlight, stood
motionless. “Ah!” said I following his eye, “I have observed that man,
two or three times, pass up and down the street on the other side of the
way, and turn his head towards our window. Our guests were with us then,
and my father in full discourse, or I should have—”
Before I could finish the sentence, my uncle, stifling an exclamation,
broke away, hurried out of the room, stumped down the stairs, and was in
the street, while I was yet rooted to the spot with surprise. I remained
at the window, and my eye rested on the figure. I saw the Captain, with
his bare head and his gray hair, cross the street; the figure started,
turned the corner, and fled.
Then I followed my uncle, and arrived in time to save him from falling:
he leant his head on my breast, and I heard him murmur,—“It is he—it is
he! He has watched us!—he repents!”
CHAPTER XXII.
The next day Lady Ellinor called; but to my great disappointment without
Fanny.
Whether or not some joy at the incident of the previous night had served
to make my uncle more youthful than usual, I know not, but he looked to
me ten years younger when Lady Ellinor entered. How carefully the
buttoned up coat was brushed! how new and glossy was the black stock!
The poor Captain was restored to his pride, and mighty proud he looked!
With a glow on his cheek, and a fire in his eye; his head thrown back,
and his whole air composed, severe, Mavortian and majestic, as if
awaiting the charge of the French cuirassiers at the head of his
detachment.
My father, on the contrary, was as usual (till dinner, when he always
dressed punctiliously, out of respect to his Kitty) in his easy morning
gown and slippers; and nothing but a certain compression in his lips
which had lasted all the morning, evinced his anticipation of the visit,
or the emotion it caused him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account