Fortune's My Foe: A RomanceBloundelle-Burton, John
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Fortune's My Foe: A Romance
Bloundelle-Burton, John
English fiction -- 19th century
Bufton would not, however, go to bed at once, declaring that on this
night they must drink success to their great scheme; to his revenge
and freedom, as he termed it. But at last Granger induced him to do
so, and led him to a room at the back of the house, from the windows
of which a fair view down the river could be obtained. He had also
another spare room that looked up the river, and from which all the
shipping lying in it was to be observed; but to put Bufton there would
not have done. For amongst other masts and yards might have been seen
towering the tall top-gallant yards of the _Mignonne_, with, flying
above them, her streaming pennon. That would not, indeed, have done,
since, thus, the deluded man might have understood that Sir Geoffrey
Barry was back, and that, consequently, the letter he supposed was
about to be sent to Ariadne on the morrow would be useless.
"Sleep well," said Granger, "sleep well; and wake up brisk and hearty
in good time. And when you gaze out on to the Marshes in the morning,
pray Heaven that you do not see the _Mignonne_ coming up stream." With
which benediction, and turning his face away from the candle's gleam
so that Bufton should not observe it, he quitted the room.
CHAPTER XVII.
A DISCOVERY.
The March wind died down during the night, so that, when the dawn
came, the whole neighbourhood was enveloped in one of the many
exhalations which are constantly arising from the Marshes hard by.
And, all through the day, there was still an absence of breeze, so
that the fog and mist remained hanging like a pall over the locality,
and shrouding everything from observation which was more than a few
yards distant.
"You see," said Granger, as now he and Bufton made their way on foot
early, and not waiting for the afternoon--on foot, because thus
attention would be less likely to be attracted--"how fortune favours
us. A better day it would be impossible to desire. Until the victims
are near at hand, close to where the boat will be alongside the shore,
all will be invisible. Yet not that it matters much, for down where
that will lie none ever come after dark, and not many by daylight."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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