Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century CostumeYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
English fiction -- 19th century
“This lady has it,” said Mrs. Darke, pointing to Loveday; “I have been
telling her she need have no fears for her young kinswoman in your
hands, Captain.”
He swore a round oath to that effect, and looking at the sleeping
maiden, again swore that she was the choicest piece of goods ever
confided to him, and that he knew better than let such an article arrive
damaged. Mr. Van Draagen ought to come down handsomely for such an extra
fine sample; but in the meantime he accepted the rouleau of guineas
that Loveday handed to him, the proceeds, as she told Mrs. Darke, of my
Lady’s winnings last night at loo.
All was ready. Poor Aurelia was swathed from head to foot in a large
mantle, like the chrysalis whose name she bore, the two sailors took her
up between them, carried her to their boat, and laid her along in the
stern. Then they pushed off and rowed down the river. Loveday looked up
and looked down, then sank on the steps, convulsed with grief, sobbing
bitterly. “She said He could deliver her from the mouth of lions! And
He has not,” she murmured under her breath, in utter misery and
hopelessness.
CHAPTER XXXIV. DOWN THE RIVER.
The lioness, ye may move her
To give o’er her prey,
But ye’ll ne’er stop a lover,
He will find out the way.
Elizabeth Delavie and her little brother were standing in the bay window
of their hotel, gazing eagerly along the street in hopes of seeing the
Major return, when Sir Amyas was seen riding hastily up on his charger,
in full accoutrements, with a soldier following. In another moment he
had dashed up stairs, and saying, “Sister, read that!” put into Betty’s
hand a slip of paper on which was written in pencil--
“If Sir A. B. would not have his true love kidnapped to the plantations,
he had best keep watch on the river gate of Mistress Darke’s garden at
Greenwich. No time to lose.”
“Who brought you this?” demanded Betty, as well as she could speak for
horror.
“My mother’s little negro boy, Syphax. He says Mrs. Loveday, her
waiting-woman, gave it to him privately on the stairs, as she was about
to get into a sedan, telling him I would give him a crown if he gave it
me as I came off parade.”
“Noon! Is there time?”
“Barely, but there shall be time. There is no time to seek your father.”
“No, but I must come with you.”
“The water is the quickest way. There are stairs near. I’ll send my
fellow to secure a boat.”
“I will be ready instantly, while you tell your uncle. It might be
better if he came.”
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account