The Impending Sword: A Novel (Vol. 2 of 3)Yates, Edmund
General
The Impending Sword: A Novel (Vol. 2 of 3)
Yates, Edmund
Fiction
'I verily believe it was the chance of another chat about them that
procured me the pleasure of this visit,' said Miss Montressor. 'But,
however, you shall not be gratified this time. You shall talk to me of
nothing but what I shall do in New York, where I shall go, what I
shall see, and to whom I must make myself most gracious and agreeable
in order to insure my success. By the way,' she added, turning
suddenly round to him, 'one thing struck me in thinking over our talk
the other day. This business of which you think so much, and in
connection with which you came over here, it must be still going on in
New York, is it not?'
'Certainly.'
'But not by itself; you must have left it in somebody's charge?'
'Of course, in the charge of my most intimate friend.'
'O, indeed,' said Miss Montressor. 'And Mrs. Foster, she is doubtless
with her family--father or mother, or something of that sort?'
'No, indeed, poor Helen is an orphan; she remains at home, in our own
house, but I have desired my friend to look after her.'
'The same friend?' inquired Miss Montressor.
'The same friend!'
'O, indeed,' said Miss Montressor, in the same tone. 'It must be a
great comfort to you to think that there is some one to whom you can
confide your business and your wife with a perfect feeling of
security.'
And then they talked of subjects connected with theatricals and New
York until Mr. Foster took his departure.
At length the eventful Friday morning arrived, and though, from the
ordinary condition of the Euston Station, it would seem impossible
that there should ever be any extra bustle there, some little
additional excitement might have been noticed. Mr. Bryan Duval, never
oblivious of the chances of advertisement, had written to the traffic
manager, enclosing a slip cut from the newspaper, announcing his
departure, and requesting some extra facilities in the way of
transport. The traffic manager, with great politeness, had ordered a
saloon carriage to be placed at the disposal of the theatrical party;
and thus their intended arrival became known. People who were waiting
about on the platform, ordinary passengers and their friends, saw the
handsome saloon carriage, and concluding immediately that it must be
for some member of the Royal Family, or some other equally
distinguished personage, lingered round it in the pleasant expectation
of being gratified with the sight of a hat or a beard, the skirt of a
robe or the end of a bonnet-string.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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