The Disowned — Volume 08Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
The Disowned — Volume 08
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
"A few water-drops, my very good friend," answered the other, "a few--
what call you them, ay, water-falls rather; (ugh! ugh!) but let me
tell you, my brother citizen, that a man may not like to get his skin
wet with waters and would yet thrust his arm up to the very elbow in
blood! (ugh! ugh!)"
"The devil!" mentally ejaculated Mr. Brown, who at the word "scheme"
had advanced one step from his retreat, but who now at the last words
of the intruder drew back as gently as a snail into his shell; and
although his person was far too much enveloped in shade to run the
least chance of detection, yet the honest broker began to feel a
little tremor vibrate along the chords of his thrilling frame, and a
new anathema against the fatal umbrella rise to his lips.
"Ah!" quoth the second, "I trust that it may be so; but, to return to
our project, are you quite sure that these two identical ministers are
in the regular habit of walking homeward from that Parliament which
their despotism has so degraded?"
"Sure? ay, that I am; Davidson swears to it!"
"And you are also sure of their persons, so that, even in the dusk,
you can recognize them? for you know I have never seen them."
"Sure as fivepence!" returned the first speaker, to whose mind the
lives of the persons referred to were of considerably less value than
the sum elegantly specified in his metaphorical reply.
"Then," said the other, with a deep, stern determination of tone,
"then shall this hand, by which one of the proudest of our oppressors
has already fallen, be made a still worthier instrument of the wrath
of Heaven!"
"You are a d--d pretty shot, I believe," quoth the first speaker, as
indifferently as if he were praising the address of a Norfolk squire.
"Never did my eye misguide me, or my aim swerve a hair's-breadth from
its target! I thought once, when I learned the art as a boy, that in
battle, rather than in the execution of a single criminal, that skill
would avail me."
"Well, we shall have a glorious opportunity to-morrow night!" answered
the first speaker; "that is, if it does not rain so infernally as it
does this night; but we shall have a watch of many hours, I dare say."
"That matters but little," replied the other conspirator; "nor even
if, night after night, the same vigil is renewed and baffled, so that
it bring its reward at last."
"Right," quoth the first; I long to be at it!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--what a
confounded cough I have! it will be my death soon, I'm thinking."
"If so," said the other, with a solemnity which seemed ludicrously
horrible, from the strange contrast of the words and object, "die at
least with the sanctity of a brave and noble deed upon your conscience
and your name!"
"Ugh! ugh!--I am but a man of colour, but I am a patriot, for all
that, my good friend! See, the violence of the rain has ceased; we
will proceed;" and with these words the worthy pair left the place to
darkness and Mr. Brown.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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