The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 1 (of 2) — John Shaqi
The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 1 (of 2)Sherer, Moyle
History
The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Sherer, Moyle
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
They were, as might be expected, very greatly troubled at the cruel
occurrence, and pale with natural anxiety. Indeed there was an
expression of concern upon the countenance of Mistress Katharine, so
very deep, so profoundly sad, that even amid the sorrowful
perplexities of the moment it glanced across the mind of Juxon, that,
in one or other of the parties in this business, her own heart was
most closely interested, and he thought that he had never before seen
human beauty with such a divine aspect. At the readily adopted
suggestion of Katharine, her aunt Alice would have proceeded
instantly to the chamber of the sufferer, to render him any service in
her power; but Juxon requested of her not to do so, and recommended
that the ladies should keep themselves quiet and apart until the
surgeon arrived, and the gentlemen now in the mansion should have
departed. Observing, too, the extreme perplexity of Sir Oliver, who
had been and still was exceedingly agitated by this strange event, he
entreated him to remain with them, and to keep himself calm and quiet
for the present; assuring him that every thing which he could suppose
him to wish in the present distress should be properly done, and that
he would certainly not leave Milverton himself while he could hope to
render the slightest service to Sir Oliver in this difficulty. There
was an earnestness of manner about Juxon, and at the same time such a
quiet tone of internal confidence in the resources of his own
judgment, that they all submitted to his guidance; and Sir Oliver was
greatly comforted and strengthened by the thought that so wise and
judicious a friend was near him in his necessity.
The boy Arthur was watching and walking forwards on the Warwick road,
as if his doing so could hasten the coming of assistance, and was in
all that confusion of the troubled spirits which keeps the young heart
throbbing with fear.
In the library Sir Charles Lambert sat with folded arms and a lowering
brow, while Sir Philip Arundel stood, looking from the window with a
countenance simply expressive of cold annoyance.
Of the half dozen gentlemen, who were still grouped in the hall, one,
after observing, that “All’s well that ends well,--and, perhaps, after
all, the young man’s hurt might not prove dangerous, and that he
always hoped for the best,”--stole his hand across quietly to the wine
cup, and took a very copious draught; another remarked, that he must
say “the young man was very irritating;” a third wanted to know what
was the use of their remaining there, and said he wanted to go home;
while a fourth said, “One was a brute, and the other a fool: that he
cared nothing for one, and knew nothing of the other.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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