Contraband; Or, A Losing HazardWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
General
Contraband; Or, A Losing Hazard
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
His heart leaped and his face brightened. "You--you don't mean you
couldn't endure the anxiety! Miss Ross!--Jin! How I wish I'd known! How
I wish I'd seen you! What! You--you actually started to look for me?"
"Not so bad as that," she answered, with a smile. "I went out to get a
tooth stopped."
CHAPTER XXII.
KIDNAPPING.
"First for Windsor?--Second to Slough? which is it to be? I wish these
young women knew their own minds!" muttered an irritated railway
official at Paddington, as Miss Ross, changing her directions with
inconvenient suddenness, blocked the stream of passengers defiling past
his window to take their tickets for the train. She reinstated herself,
however, in his good opinion, by unusual alacrity in paying her money,
ere she entered the ladies' waiting-room, from which, after a couple of
minutes, she reappeared, completely disguised in figure, face, and
bearing.
She had gone in, a shapely, upright, good-looking young woman, on whom
masculine eyes could not but turn with unqualified approval. She came
out, wearing a double veil, a pair of blue spectacles, and a respirator,
bent crooked, with one leg shorter than the other. Thus metamorphosed,
she limped to her second-class carriage under the very noses of two men,
to have been discovered by whom would have entailed ruin, disgrace, and
instantaneous explosion of her grand scheme.
Picard and Frank, setting the bye-laws of the company at defiance, by
smoking on its platform, were making indiscreet remarks on the
appearance of the different passengers hurrying to take their places in
the same train. Little did they think, how the heart was beating, of
that dowdy, dumpy figure they glanced at half in pity, half in scorn;
nor how a thrill of triumph pervaded her from top to toe, while Miss
Ross reflected, with what transparent devices these lords of the
creation were to be duped, with what facility she could turn and twist
two great stupid men round her dainty little finger. She did not so much
mind Frank. Had he been alone, they might have journeyed amicably down
together, but she dreaded recognition by his companion; above all she
dreaded that Picard might have the same object as herself, might be
going out of town for the express purpose of visiting the child. Even in
this case, however, she felt a proud confidence in her own powers of
outwitting them all; conscious, that like an Indian amongst the rapids,
she could steer to an inch, undismayed by any danger, however imminent,
that did not actually overwhelm her bark, taking a keen wild pleasure in
the very destruction she invited only to elude. Sitting opposite a
motherly woman, with a basket, who sucked peppermint as a sailor "turns
his quid," she found herself almost wishing she had taken her place
boldly in the next carriage, which a strong odour of tobacco-smoke bade
her infer was occupied by two men, both of whom she had successively
fancied she loved.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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