Eugene Aram — Volume 02Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Eugene Aram — Volume 02
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Aram, Eugene, 1704-1759 -- Fiction
"Ay, exactly; Geoffrey! What, not been heard of?--his family not know
where he is? A sad thing, Sir; but he was always a wild fellow; now here,
now there, like a flash of lightning. But it is true, it is true, he did
stay a day here, several years ago, when I first bought the place. I can
tell you all about it;--but you seem agitated,--do come nearer the
window:--there, that's right. Well, Sir, it is, as I said, a great many
years ago,--perhaps fourteen,--and I was speaking to the landlord of the
Greyhound about some hay he wished to sell, when a gentleman rode into
the yard full tear, as your father always did ride, and in getting out of
his way I recognised Geoffrey Lester. I did not know him well--far from
it; but I had seen him once or twice with your uncle, and though he was a
strange pickle, he sang a good song, and was deuced amusing. Well, Sir, I
accosted him, and, for the sake of your uncle, I asked him to dine with
me, and take a bed at my new house. Ah! I little thought what a dear
bargain it was to be. He accepted my invitation, for I fancy--no offence,
Sir,--there were few invitations that Mr. Geoffrey Lester ever refused to
accept. We dined tete-a-tete,--I am an old bachelor, Sir,--and very
entertaining he was, though his sentiments seemed to me broader than
ever. He was capital, however, about the tricks he had played his
creditors,--such manoeuvres,--such escapes! After dinner he asked me if I
ever corresponded with his brother. I told him no; that we were very good
friends, but never heard from each other; and he then said, 'Well, I
shall surprise him with a visit shortly; but in case you should
unexpectedly have any communication with him, don't mention having seen
me; for, to tell you the truth, I am just returned from India, where I
should have scraped up a little money, but that I spent it as fast as I
got it. However, you know that I was always proverbially the luckiest
fellow in the world--(and so, Sir, your father was!)--and while I was in
India, I saved an old Colonel's life at a tiger-hunt; he went home
shortly afterwards, and settled in Yorkshire; and the other day on my
return to England, to which my ill-health drove me, I learned that my old
Colonel was really dead, and had left me a handsome legacy, with his
house in Yorkshire. I am now going down to Yorkshire to convert the
chattels into gold--to receive my money, and I shall then seek out my
good brother, my household gods, and, perhaps, though it's not likely,
settle into a sober fellow for the rest of my life.' I don't tell you,
young gentleman, that those were your father's exact words,--one can't
remember verbatim so many years ago;--but it was to that effect. He left
me the next day, and I never heard any thing more of him: to say the
truth, he was looking wonderfully yellow, and fearfully reduced. And I
fancied at the time, he could not live long; he was prematurely old, and
decrepit in body, though gay in spirit; so that I had tacitly imagined in
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account