The Price of Blood: An Extravaganza of New York Life in 1807Pyle, Howard
General
The Price of Blood: An Extravaganza of New York Life in 1807
Pyle, Howard
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
With this concludes the second stage of our narrative, excepting to
add that, when nine o'clock came, bringing no signs of his client,
Griscombe crossed the ferry to Paulus Hook, where he found the
post-chaise awaiting his arrival, exactly as his client had foretold.
Entering this vehicle, our young lawyer immediately began that journey
which he pursued with all diligence, stopping neither day nor night
till he had arrived at his destination.
HERE FOLLOWS THE THIRD CHAPTER
CHAPTER THREE
The _Horrific_ EPISODE in the COURSE of which the LAWYER obtained a
_Third_ CLIENT.
Our hero arrived at Bordentown early upon a clear and frosty winter
morning with entire safety and success, and with no greater adventures
befalling him than usually occur to the traveller in a private
conveyance upon so considerable a journey. Nor had he the least
difficulty in discovering Mr. Michael Desmond's address, that gentleman
dwelling in one of the most palatial of those abodes that lend such an
air of aristocratic distinction to the town.
Immediately, in reply to his request to see the master of the house,
he was shown into the reception-room, where Mr. Desmond presently
appeared, presenting to his astonished sight a person so exactly and
minutely resembling his brother that, had Griscombe not known it to be
otherwise, he would have believed them to have been the same individual.
The remarkable resemblance, however, did not extend deeper than the
lineaments of the features; for, whereas the countenance of the
first Mr. Desmond had been overclouded by an expression of the most
sombre melancholy and the most overwhelming anxiety, the face of this
gentleman beamed with courteous hospitality and generous welcome.
He still held in his hand the card which Griscombe had sent in to him
by the servant; and, as he advanced with a smile of extreme cordiality
illuminating his face, he cried, "I cannot, my dear Mr. Griscombe,
be too much delighted that you have favored me with so early a call,
since it will give me the pleasure of having you to breakfast and of
introducing you to my daughter. I see from what you have written me
upon your card that you come upon important business from my brother;
but, before satisfying my curiosity upon that point, I shall insist
that you first appease the craving of what must be a very hearty
appetite after so long a journey."
Nor would he accept any refusal of his invitation, but, with polite
determination, put aside every effort that Griscombe made to explain
the pressing and tragic nature of his mission. "Nay," he cried, as
Griscombe continued to urge upon him the importance of his affair,
"I insist that you say no more at present. I am perfectly well aware
with what an extreme degree of exaggeration a young lawyer regards a
commission that may very easily wait for breakfast. I am determined
that you first satisfy your appetite, and then your sense of duty."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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