Guy Livingstone; or, 'Thorough'Lawrence, George A. (George Alfred)
General
Guy Livingstone; or, 'Thorough'
Lawrence, George A. (George Alfred)
Fiction
They did not wish to hurry over the entertainment, so confined him in an
upper chamber, while they called their friends and neighbors to rejoice
with them, carousing meantime jovially below. The victim contrived to
let himself down from the window, and ran for his life to the nearest
house, which, unluckily, happened to be the Lodge. Two boys, however,
saw and recognized him as he entered the demesne, and raised a whoop, to
show that they knew where the fox had gone to ground.
This we made out from a string of incoherent interjections; and then he
lay panting and contorting himself in an agony of fear.
Mohun sat on the hall table, swinging his foot and regarding the
spectacle with the indolent curiosity that one might exhibit toward the
gambols of some ugly new importation of the Zoological Society. When the
story was told he pointed coolly to the door.
The shriek that the miserable creature set up on seeing that gesture I
shall never forget.
"Do you think I shall turn my house into a refuge for destitute
attorneys?" Ralph said, answering my look of inquiry. "If there were no
other reason, I would not risk it, with your wife under my roof. A
night-attack in the West is no child's play."
Kate had come out, and was leaning over the gallery. She heard the last
words, and spoke, flushing scarlet with anger.
"If I thought that my presence prevented an act of common humanity, I
would leave your house this instant, Colonel Mohun."
Ralph smiled slightly as he bent his head in courteous acknowledgment of
her interruption.
"Don't be indignant, Mrs. Carew. If you have a fancy for such an
excitement, I shall be too happy to indulge you. It is settled, then? We
back the attorney. Don't lie there, sir, looking so like a whipped
hound. You hear? You are safe for the present." He had hardly finished,
when there came a rustling of feet outside, then hurried whispers, then
a knock, and a summons.
"We'd like to spake wid the curnel, av ye plase."
"I am here; what do ye want?" Mohun growled.
"We want the 'torney. We know he's widin."
"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. It's not my fancy to give him
up. I wouldn't turn out a badger to you, let alone a man."
You see, he took the high moral ground now.
"Then we'll have him out in spite of yez," two or three voices cried out
together.
"Try it," Ralph said. "Meantime I am going to dine; good-night."
A voice that had not spoken yet was heard, with a shrill, gibing accent.
"Ah! thin the best of appetites to ye, curnel, and make haste over yer
dinner. It's Pierce Delaney that'll give ye yer supper." Then they went
off.
"The said Delaney is a huge quarryman," Ralph observed. "He represents
the physical element of terror hereabouts, as I believe I do the moral.
We shall have warm work before morning. He does not like me. Fritz, send
Connell up; he is below somewhere."
The keeper came, looking very much surprised. He had been in the
stables, and had only just heard of the disturbance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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