Pelham — Volume 07Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Pelham — Volume 07
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Adventure stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
"The last!" interrupted Glanville. "Too--too generous Pelham, I feel--
these tears (the first I have shed for a long, long time) tell you, that
I feel to the heart--your friendship and disinterested attachment; but
the moment your love for Ellen has become successful, I will not tear you
from its enjoyment. Believe me, all that I could derive from your
society, could not afford me half the happiness I should have in knowing
that you and Ellen were blest in each other. No--no, my solitude will, at
that reflection, be deprived of its sting. You shall hear from me once
again; my letter shall contain a request, and your executing that last
favour must console and satisfy the kindness of your heart. For myself, I
shall die as I have lived--alone. All fellowship with my griefs would
seem to me strange and unwelcome."
I would not suffer Glanville to proceed. I interrupted him with fresh
arguments and entreaties, to which he seemed at last to submit, and I was
in the firm hope of having conquered his determination, when we were
startled by a sudden and violent noise in the hall.
"It is Thornton," said Glanville, calmly. "I told them not to admit him,
and he is forcing his way."
Scarcely had Sir Reginald said this, before Thornton burst abruptly into
the room.
Although it was scarcely noon, he was more than half intoxicated, and his
eyes swam in his head with a maudlin expression of triumph and insolence,
as he rolled towards us.
"Oh, oh! Sir Reginald," he said, "thought of giving me the slip, eh? Your
d--d servants said you were out; but I soon silenced them. 'Egad I made
them as nimble as cows in a cage--I have not learnt the use of my fists
for nothing. So, you're going abroad to-morrow; without my leave, too--
pretty good joke that, indeed. Come, come, my brave fellow, you need not
scowl at me in that way. Why, you look as surly as a butcher's dog with a
broken head."
Glanville, who was lived with ill-suppressed rage, rose haughtily.
"Mr. Thornton," he said, in a calm voice, although he was trembling in
his extreme passion, from head to foot, "I am not now prepared to submit
to your insolence and intrusion. You will leave this room instantly. If
you have any further demands upon me, I will hear them to-night at any
hour you please to appoint."
"No, no, my fine fellow," said Thornton, with a coarse chuckle; "you have
as much wit as three folks, two fools, and a madman; but you won't do me,
for all that. The instant my back is turned, your's will be turned too;
and by the time I call again, your honour will be half way to Calais.
But--bless my stars, Mr. Pelham, is that you? I really did not see you
before; I suppose you are not in the secret?"
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account