The Disowned — Volume 01Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
The Disowned — Volume 01
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
The road wound at last from the champaign country, through which it
had for some miles extended itself, into a narrow lane, girded on
either side by a dead fence. As the youth entered this lane, he was
somewhat startled by the abrupt appearance of a horseman, whose steed
leaped the hedge so close to our hero as almost to endanger his
safety. The rider, a gentleman of about five-and-twenty, pulled up,
and in a tone of great courtesy apologized for his inadvertency; the
apology was readily admitted, and the horseman rode onwards in the
direction of W----.
Trifling as this incident was, the air and mien of the stranger were
sufficient to arrest irresistibly the thoughts of the young traveller;
and before they had flowed into a fresh channel he found himself in
the town and at the door of the inn to which his expedition was bound.
He entered the bar; a buxom landlady and a still more buxom daughter
were presiding over the spirits of the place.
"You have some boxes and a letter for me, I believe," said the young
gentleman to the comely hostess.
"To you, sir!--the name, if you please?"
"To--to--to C---- L----," said the youth; "the initials C. L., to be
left till called for."
"Yes, sir, we have some luggage; came last night by the van; and a
letter besides, sir, to C. L. also."
The daughter lifted her large dark eyes at the handsome stranger, and
felt a wonderful curiosity to know what the letter to C. L. could
possibly be about; meanwhile mine hostess, raising her hand to a shelf
on which stood an Indian slop-basin, the great ornament of the bar at
the Golden Fleece, brought from its cavity a well-folded and well-
sealed epistle.
"That is it," cried the youth; "show me a private room instantly."
"What can he want a private room for?" thought the landlady's
daughter.
"Show the gentleman to the Griffin, No. 4, John Merrylack," said the
landlady herself.
With an impatient step the owner of the letter followed a slipshod and
marvellously unwashed waiter into No. 4,--a small square asylum for
town travellers, country yeomen, and "single gentlemen;" presenting,
on the one side, an admirable engraving of the Marquis of Granby, and
on the other an equally delightful view of the stable-yard.
Mr. C. L. flung himself on a chair (there were only four chairs in No.
4), watched the waiter out of the room, seized his letter, broke open
the seal, and read--yea, reader, you shall read it too--as follows:--
"Enclosed is the sum to which you are entitled; remember, that it is
all which you can ever claim at my hands; remember also that you have
made the choice which now nothing can persuade me to alter. Be the
name you have so long iniquitously borne henceforth and always
forgotten; upon that condition you may yet hope from my generosity the
future assistance which you must want, but which you could not ask
from my affection. Equally by my heart and my reason you are forever
DISOWNED."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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