The Lost Lady of LoneSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
The Lost Lady of Lone
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Fiction
"Rose, our safety requires that you should go alone to London. You cannot
trust me; yet see how much I trust you. You have in that bag, which I
have confided to your care, uncounted treasures. Take it carefully to
London and to the house on Westminster Road. Conceal it there and wait
for me."
"Who is yon lad that cam' wi' ye frae the castle?" inquired the girl,
pointing to the other man who had withdrawn apart.
"He is one of the servants of the castle, who is in my confidence. Never
mind him. Hurry away now, my lass. You have just time to cross the bridge
and reach the station, to catch the train. You are not afraid to go
alone?"
"Nay, I'm no feared. But dinna be lang awa' yersel', my laird, or
I shall be thinking my thoughts about yon leddy," said the girl, as she
folded the dark vail around and around the hat, and without further
leave-taking, started off in a brisk walk toward the bridge.
She passed through the castle grounds and over the bridge, and went on to
the station, without having met another human being.
She secured her ticket, as has been related, and when the train stopped,
she took her place on a second-class car.
Being very much of an animal, and very much fatigued, she could not be
kept awake even by the excitement of her novel and perilous position,
but, holding on to her booty, and lulled by the swift motion of the
train, she fell asleep, and slept until eight o'clock next morning,
when she was awakened by the stopping of the train and the bustle of the
arrival at Euston Square Station. Her first thought was for the safety of
her bag. With a start of dismay she missed it from her lap, where she had
been holding it so tightly.
"An' it 's yer little valise yer a looking for, my dear, there it be at
yer feet, where it fell, with a crash, while ye slept. An' there was
anything in it would break, sure it 's broken entirely," said a kindly
man, pointing to the bag upon the floor.
She hastily picked it up.
"Oh! if any one had known what it contains, would it have been left there
in safety all the time I slept?" she asked herself, as her hands closed
tightly upon her recovered treasure.
But the passengers were all leaving the train, and so she got out with
the rest.
She was too cunning to take a cab from the station. She left it on
foot and walked a mile or two, making many turns, before, at length she
hailed a "four wheeler," hired it and directed the cabman to drive to
Number ---- Westminster Road.
CHAPTER XII.
THE HOUSE ON WESTMINSTER ROAD.
An hour's ride through some of the most crowded streets of London brought
her to her destination--a tall, dingy, three-storied brick house, in a
block of the same.
She paid and dismissed the cab at the door, and then went up and rang the
bell.
It was answered by an old woman, in a black skirt, red sack, white apron,
and white cap.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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