Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
The place was hot, and Dorothy was tired. But where in that wide and not
over-clean place should she find anything fitter than a grindstone to
sit upon? Never yet, through all her acquaintance with the workshop, had
she once seated herself in it. Looking about, however, she soon espied,
almost hidden in the corner of a recess behind the furnace, what seemed
an ordinary chair, such as stood in the great hall for the use of the
family when anything special was going on there. With some trouble she
got it out, dusted it, and set it as far from the furnace as might be,
consistently with watching the motions of the engine. But the moment she
sat down in it, she was caught and pinned so fast that she could
scarcely stir hand or foot, and could no more leave it again than if she
had been paralyzed in every limb. One scream she uttered of mingled
indignation and terror, fancying herself seized by human arms; but when
she found herself only in the power of one of her cousin's curiosities,
she speedily quieted herself and rested in peace, for Caspar always paid
a visit to the workshop the last thing before going to bed. The pressure
of the springs that had closed the trap did not hurt her in the
least--she was indeed hardly sensible of it; but when she made the least
attempt to stir, the thing showed itself immovably locked, and she had
too much confidence in the workmanship of her cousin and Caspar to dream
of attempting to open it: that she knew must be impossible. The worst
that threatened her was that the engine might require some attention
before the hour, or perhaps two, which must elapse ere Caspar came would
be over, and she did not know what the consequences might be.
As it happened, however, something either in the powder-mill or about
the defences detained Caspar far beyond his usual hour for retiring, and
the sultriness of the weather having caused him a headache, he
represented to himself that, with mistress Dorothy tending the engine,
who knew where and would be sure to find him upon the least occasion,
there could be no harm in his going to bed without paying his usual
precautionary visit to the keep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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