The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels — John Shaqi
The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and MarvelsIngoldsby, Thomas
General
The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels
Ingoldsby, Thomas
English fiction -- 19th century; English poetry -- 19th century; English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English
At the usual hour of separation for the night, Tom saw, from his
concealment, the lieutenant enter his room, and, after taking a few
turns in it, with an expression so joyous as to betoken that his
thoughts were mainly occupied by his approaching happiness, proceed
slowly to disrobe himself. The coat, the waistcoat, the black silk
stock, were gradually discarded; the green morocco slippers were kicked
off, and then--ay, and then--his countenance grew grave; it seemed to
occur to him all at once that this was his last stake,--nay, that the
very breeches he had on were not his own,--that to-morrow morning was
his last, and that if he lost _them_--A glance showed that his mind was
made up; he replaced the single button he had just subducted, and threw
himself upon the bed in a state of transition,--half chrysalis, half
grub.
Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper by the flickering light of
the night-lamp, till the clock, striking one, induced him to increase
the narrow opening which he had left for the purpose of observation.
The motion, slight as it was, seemed to attract Charles's attention;
for he raised himself suddenly to a sitting posture, listened for a
moment, and then stood upright upon the floor. Ingoldsby was on the
point of discovering himself, when, the light, flashing full upon his
friend's countenance, he perceived that, though his eyes were open,
"their sense was shut,"--that he was yet under the influence of sleep.
Seaforth advanced slowly to the toilet, lit his candle at the lamp that
stood on it, then, going back to the bed's foot, appeared to search
eagerly for something which he could not find. For a few moments he
seemed restless and uneasy, walking round the apartment and examining
the chairs, till, coming fully in front of a large swing-glass that
flanked the dressing-table, he paused, as if contemplating his figure
in it. He now returned towards the bed; put on his slippers, and,
with cautious and stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched
doorway that opened on the private staircase.
As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged from his hiding-place;
but the sleep-walker heard him not; he proceeded softly down stairs,
followed at a due distance by his friend; opened the door which led
out upon the gardens; and stood at once among the thickest of the
shrubs, which there clustered round the base of a corner turret, and
screened the postern from common observation. At this moment Ingoldsby
had nearly spoiled all by making a false step: the sound attracted
Seaforth's attention,--he paused and turned; and as the full moon shed
her light directly upon his pale and troubled features, Tom marked,
almost with dismay, the fixed and rayless appearance of his eyes:--
"There was no speculation in those orbs
That he did glare withal."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account