The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 14Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
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The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 14
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century; Families -- Fiction
"Nay, Sir Sedley,--that is, my dear lord,--I will take my chance, and
look in after dinner."
"I do so; my guests are not lively! What a firm step the rogue has!
Only twenty, I think,--twenty! and not an acre of property to plague
him!" So saying, the marquis dolorously shook his head and vanished
through the noiseless mahogany doors behind which Messrs. Fudge &
Fidget awaited the unhappy man,--with the accounts of the great
Castleton coal-mine.
CHAPTER VI.
On my way towards our lodgings I resolved to look in at a humble tavern,
in the coffee-room of which the Captain and myself habitually dined. It
was now about the usual hour in which we took that meal, and he might be
there waiting for me. I had just gained the steps of this tavern when a
stagecoach came rattling along the pavement and drew up at an inn of
more pretensions than that which we favored, situated within a few doors
of the latter. As the coach stopped, my eye was caught by the Trevanion
livery, which was very peculiar. Thinking I must be deceived, I drew
near to the wearer of the livery, who had just descended from the roof,
and while he paid the coachman, gave his orders to a waiter who emerged
from the inn,--"Half-and-half, cold without!" The tone of the voice
struck me as familiar, and the man now looking up, I beheld the features
of Mr. Peacock. Yes, unquestionably it was he. The whiskers were
shaved; there were traces of powder in the hair or the wig; the livery
of the Trevanions (ay, the very livery,--crest-button and all) upon that
portly figure, which I had last seen in the more august robes of a
beadle. But Mr. Peacock it was,--Peacock travestied, but Peacock still.
Before I had recovered my amaze, a woman got out of a cabriolet that
seemed to have been in waiting for the arrival of the coach, and
hurrying up to Mr. Peacock, said, in the loud, impatient tone common to
the fairest of the fair sex, when in haste, "How late you are!--I was
just going. I must get back to Oxton to-night."
Oxton,--Miss Trevanion was staying at Oxton! I was now close behind the
pair; I listened with my heart in my ear.
"So you shall, my dear,--so you shall; just come in, will you?"
"No, no; I have only ten minutes to catch the coach. Have you any
letter for me from Mr. Gower? How can I be sure, if I don't see it
under his own hand, that--"
"Hush!" said Peacock, sinking his voice so low that I could only catch
the words, "no names. Letter, pooh! I'll tell you." He then drew her
apart and whispered to her for some moments. I watched the woman's
face, which was bent towards her companion's, and it seemed to show
quick intelligence. She nodded her head more than once, as if in
impatient assent to what was said, and after a shaking of hands, hurried
off to the cab; then, as if a thought struck her, she ran back, and
said,--
"But in case my lady should not go,--if there's any change of plan?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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