Paul Clifford — Volume 07Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Paul Clifford — Volume 07
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Brigands and robbers -- Fiction
Meanwhile the first rumour that reached London respecting Brandon's fate
was that he had been found in a fit, and was lying dangerously ill at
Mauleverer's; and before the second and more fatally sure report arrived,
Lucy had gathered from the visible dismay of Barlow, whom she anxiously
cross-questioned, and who, really loving his master, was easily affected
into communication, the first and more flattering intelligence. To
Barlow's secret delight, she insisted instantly on setting off to the
supposed sick man; and accompanied by Barlow and her woman, the
affectionate girl hastened to Mauleverer's house on the evening after the
day the earl left it. Lucy had not proceeded far before Barlow learned,
from the gossip of the road, the real state of the case. Indeed, it was
at the first stage that with a mournful countenance he approached the
door of the carriage, and announcing the inutility of proceeding farther,
begged of Lucy to turn back. So soon as Miss Brandon had overcome the
first shock which this intelligence gave her, she said with calmness,--
"Well, Barlow, if it be so, we have still a duty to perform. Tell the
postboys to drive on!"
"Indeed, madam, I cannot see what use it can be fretting yourself,--and
you so poorly. If you will let me go, I will see every attention paid to
the remains of my poor master."
"When my father lay dead," said Lucy, with a grave and sad sternness in
her manner, "he who is now no more sent no proxy to perform the last
duties of a brother; neither will I send one to discharge those of a
niece, and prove that I have forgotten the gratitude of a daughter.
Drive on!"
We have said that there were times when a spirit was stricken from Lucy
little common to her in general; and now the command of her uncle sat
upon her brow. On sped the horses, and for several minutes Lucy remained
silent. Her woman did not dare to speak. At length Miss Brandon turned,
and, covering her face with her hands, burst into tears so violent that
they alarmed her attendant even more than her previous stillness. "My
poor, poor uncle!" she sobbed; and those were all her words.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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