Pelham — Volume 02Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Pelham — Volume 02
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Adventure stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
Thornton was evidently disconcerted. "Oh!" said he, after a short pause,
and another of his peculiarly quick, sly glances--"Oh, that man; I have
known him a very short time. What is his name? let me see!" and Mr.
Thornton affected to look down in a complete reverie of dim remembrances.
I saw, however, that, from time to time, his eye glanced up to me, with a
restless, inquisitive expression, and as instantly retired.
"Ah," said I, carelessly, "I think I know who he is!"
"Who!" cried Thornton, eagerly, and utterly off his guard.
"And yet," I pursued, without noticing the interruption, "it scarcely can
be--the colour of the hair is so very different."
Thornton again appeared to relapse into his recollections. "War--Warbur--
ah, I have it now!" cried he, "Warburton--that's it--that's the name--is
it the one you supposed, Mr. Pelham?"
"No," said I, apparently perfectly satisfied. "I was quite mistaken. Good
morning, I did not think it was so late. On Sunday, then, Mr. Thornton--
au plaisir!"
"A d--d cunning dog!" said I to myself, as I left the apartments.
"However, on peut-etre trop fin. I shall have him yet."
The surest way to make a dupe is to let you victim suppose you are his
CHAPTER XXIV.
Voila de l'erudition.
--Les Femmes Savantes.
I found, on my return, covered with blood, and foaming with passion, my
inestimable valet--Bedos!
"What's the matter?" said I.
"Matter!" repeated Bedos, in a tone almost inarticulate with rage; and
then, rejoicing at the opportunity of unbosoming his wrath, he poured out
a vast volley of ivrognes and carognes, against our Dame du Chateau, of
monkey reminiscence. With great difficulty, I gathered, at last, from his
vituperations, that the enraged landlady, determined to wreak her
vengeance on some one, had sent for him into her appartement, accosted
him with a smile, bade him sit down, regaled him with cold vol-au-vent,
and a glass of Curacoa, and, while he was felicitating himself on his
good fortune, slipped out of the room: presently, three tall fellows
entered with sticks.
"We'll teach you," said the biggest of them--"we'll teach you to lock up
ladies, for the indulgence of your vulgar amusement;" and, without one
other word, they fell upon Bedos, with incredible zeal and vigour. The
valiant valet defended himself, tooth and nail, for some time, for which
he only got the more soundly belaboured. In the meanwhile the landlady
entered, and, with the same gentle smile as before, begged him to make no
ceremony, to proceed with his present amusement, and when he was tired
with the exercise, hoped he would refresh himself with another glass of
Curacoa.
"It was this," said Bedos, with a whimper, "which hurt me the most, to
think she should serve me so cruelly, after I had eaten so plentifully of
the vol-au-vent; envy and injustice I can bear, but treachery stabs me to
the heart."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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