The Adventures of Harry Richmond — CompleteMeredith, George
General
The Adventures of Harry Richmond — Complete
Meredith, George
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction
A shilling tossed by an English boy to a couple of little foreign girls
in a woodman's hut!—you would not expect it to withstand the common
fate of silver coins, and preserve mysterious virtues by living
celibate, neither multiplying nor reduced, ultimately to play the part
of a powerful magician in bringing the boy grown man to the feet of an
illustrious lady, and her to his side in sickness, treasonably to the
laws of her station. The little women quarrelled over it, and snatched
and hid and contemplated it in secret, each in her turn, until the
strife it engendered was put an end to by a doughty smith, their
mother's brother, who divided it into equal halves, through which he
drove a hole, and the pieces being now thrown out of the currency, each
one wore her share of it in her bosom from that time, proudly appeased.
They were not ordinary peasant children, and happily for them they had
another friend that was not a bird of passage, and was endowed by
nature and position to do the work of an angel. She had them educated
to read, write, and knit, and learn pretty manners, and in good season
she took one of the sisters to wait on her own person. The second went,
upon her recommendation, into the household of a Professor of a
neighbouring University. But neither of them abjured her superstitious
belief in the proved merits of the talisman she wore. So when they saw
the careless giver again they remembered him; their gratitude was as
fresh as on that romantic morning of their childhood, and they resolved
without concert to serve him after their own fashion, and quickly spied
a way to it. They were German girls.
You are now enabled to guess more than was known to Ottilia and me of
the curious agency at work to shuffle us together. The doors of her
suite in the palace were barred against letters addressed to the
princess; the delivery of letters to her was interdicted, she
consenting, yet she found one: it lay on the broad walk of the
orange-trees, between the pleasure and the fruit-gardens, as if dropped
by a falcon in mid air. Ottilia beheld it, and started. Her little maid
walking close by, exclaimed, scuttling round in front of her the while
like an urchin in sabots,
'Ha! what is it? a snake? let me! let me!' The guileless mistress
replied, 'A letter!' Whereupon the maid said: 'Not a window near! and
no wall neither! Why, dearest princess, we have walked up and down here
a dozen times and not seen it staring at us! Oh, my good heaven!' The
letter was seized and opened, and Ottilia read:
'He who loves you with his heart has been cruelly used. They have shot
him. He is not dead. He must not die. He is where he has studied since
long. He has his medicine and doctors, and they say the bullet did not
lodge. He has not the sight that cures. Now is he, the strong young
man, laid helpless at anybody's mercy.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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