England -- Fiction; Gothic fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
"Suppose, Alice, we were to change our plan, would you like to come
abroad? Out of this you must come immediately." He was speaking low. "I
am in great danger; I must go abroad. For your life, don't seem to
suspect anything. Do exactly as I tell you, or else I am utterly ruined,
and you, Alice, on your account, very miserable. Don't ask a question,
or look a look, that may make Louisa Diaper suspect that you have any
doubt as to your going to Arden, or any suspicion of any danger. She is
quite true, but not wise, and your left hand must not know what your
right hand is doing. Don't be frightened, only be steady and calm. Get
together any jewels and money you have, and as little else as you can
possibly manage with. Do this yourself; Louisa Diaper must know nothing
of it. I will mature our plans, and to-morrow or next day I shall see
you again; I can stay but a moment now, and have but time to bid you
good-night."
Then he kissed her. How horribly agitated he looked! How cold was the
pressure of his hand!
"Hush!" he whispered, and his dark eyes were fixed on the door through
which he expected the return of the maid. And as he heard her step, "Not
a word, remember!" he said; then bidding her good-night aloud, he
quitted the room almost as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving her, for
the first time, in the horrors of a growing panic.
Sir Richard leaned back in the cab as he drove into town. He had as yet
no plan formed. It was a more complicated exploit than he was at the
moment equal to. In Mortlake were two fellows, by way of protectors,
placed there for security of the house and people.
These men held possession of the keys of the house, and sat and regaled
themselves with their hot punch, or cold brandy and water, and pipes;
always one awake, and with ears erect, they kept watch and ward in the
room to the right of the hall-door, in which Sir Richard and Uncle David
had conversed with the sad Mr. Plumes, on the evening after the old
baronet's death. To effect Alice's escape, and reserve for himself a
chance of accomplishing his own, was a problem demanding skill, cunning,
and audacity.
While he revolved these things an alarm had been sounded in another
quarter, which unexpectedly opened a chance of extrication, sudden and
startling.
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