Her mother's secretSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
Her mother's secret
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Fiction
"Well, the squire couldn't take the message, and so he asked the rector to
do it. And the rector promised everything the squire wanted, and then,
when it was too late to go back from his word, he remembered that he had
to make a sick call on a man that was given over by the doctors, and might
have to stay with him all night. And I was there, and heard him bewailing
his dilemma, and--what could a gentleman do? I offered to take the message
to Port Tobacco, and wait there for the answer."
"Well, and to make a long story short, you went there and took the
opportunity to stay all night and go on a lark among them low-life tavern
people--you, the only adopted nephew and namesake of a lady descended from
the Duke of England! I'm ashamed of you!" said Miss Bayard, wrathfully.
"I went there, and gave the message at the telegraph office, and waited
for an answer until the office closed for the night. Then I went to the
quietest hotel I could find----"
"Oh, yes, I know you did!" ironically interpolated the old lady.
"And I just took a chop and a cup of coffee, and went to bed," continued
the youth, without noticing the interruption. "And the first thing the
next morning I went to the office, and waited until it was opened. And the
first telegram that came clicking over the wires was the one I waited for.
And, as soon as ever I got it, I only waited to swallow a cup of coffee
and a roll, mounted my horse, and hurried back to the rectory. And as soon
as I gave his reverence the telegram I set off here!"
"And I have been that anxious about you!" whimpered the old lady. "And
now, tell me, did you know anything about that woman a being of that
furriner's wife when you fetched her here to my house?"
"Yes, aunty, I knew it."
"And why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was sworn to secrecy! And, if I had not been sworn, still, I
could never have betrayed a woman's confidence. The adopted nephew of the
Duke of England's descendant could never do that, you know!" said the boy,
with a sly twinkle in his blue eyes.
"No, to be sure," gravely replied Miss Sibby, quite unconscious that she
was laughed at.
"There! There's Le! Hello, old fellow! Come in!" cried Roland, starting up
and tearing open the front door as he saw young Force ride up and fling
himself from the saddle.
"Why, what in the--deuce is the matter with you, old boy?" demanded the
young sailor, on seeing the grave aspect of his friend's countenance.
"I want you to do a favor for me, Bayard," said Le, pausing on the outside
of the door, and speaking in a whisper.
"It is done!" exclaimed Roland, seizing his friend's hand and slapping his
own into it.
"I want you to take a challenge for me."
"A--what?"
"A challenge!"
"Heaven, earth and--t'other place! Whom are you about to challenge?"
"That miscreant Anglesea."
"You are not going to fight a duel, Le?"
"I shall fight a duel or do a murder! That's the alternative!"
"Perhaps you may do both."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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