The Nest of the Sparrowhawk: A Romance of the XVIIth CenturyOrczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
History
The Nest of the Sparrowhawk: A Romance of the XVIIth Century
Orczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"Yes! Charity was my informant. He looks very ill, so the wench says: he
has been down with fever, it appears, all the while that he was in
prison, and was only discharged because they feared that he would die.
He contrived to work or beg his way back here, and now he is staying in
the village.... I thought you would have heard."
"No! I never speak to the old woman ... and Adam Lambert avoids me as he
would the plague.... I see as little of them as I can.... I had to be
prudent these last, final days."
"Heaven grant he may do nothing fatal to-day!" she murmured.
"Nay! my dear Editha," he retorted with a harsh laugh, "'tis scarcely
Heaven's business to look after our schemes. But Lambert can do us very
little harm now! For his own sake, he will keep out of Sue's way."
"At what hour does Master Skyffington arrive?"
"In half an hour."
Then as he saw that she was putting into effect her former resolve of
going out, despite the rain, and was once more readjusting her hood for
that purpose, he opened the door for her, and whispered as he followed
her out:
"An you will allow me, my dear Editha, I'll accompany you on your walk
... we might push on down the Canterbury Road, and perchance meet Master
Skyffington.... I understand that Sue has been asking for me, and I
would prefer to meet her as seldom as possible just now.... This is my
last day," he concluded with a laugh, "and I must be doubly careful."
CHAPTER XXV
AN INTERLUDE
Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy was vastly perturbed. Try how he might, he
had been unable to make any discovery with regard to the mysterious
events, which he felt sure were occurring all round him, a discovery
which--had he but made it--would have enabled him to apply with more
chance of success, for one of the posts in my Lord Protector's secret
service, and moreover, would have covered his name with glory.
This last contingency was always uppermost in his mind. Not from any
feeling of personal pride, for of a truth vanity is a mortal sin, but
because Mistress Charity had of late cast uncommonly kind eyes on that
cringing worm, Master Courage Toogood, and the latter, emboldened by the
minx's favors, had been more than usually insolent to his betters.
To have the right to administer serious physical punishment to the
youth, and moral reproof to the wench, was part of Master Busy's
comprehensive scheme for his own advancement and the confusion of all
the miscreants who dwelt in Acol Court. For this he had glued both eye
and ear to draughty keyholes, had lain for hours under cover of prickly
thistles in the sunk fence which surrounded the flower garden. For this
he now emerged, on that morning of November 2, accompanied by a terrific
clatter and a volley of soot from out the depth of the monumental
chimney in the hall of Acol Court.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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