The Smuggler: A Tale. Volumes I-IIIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Smuggler: A Tale. Volumes I-III
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Kent (England) -- Fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
The next moment, however, steps running up the face of the bank were
distinguished, and in another minute a boy of twelve or thirteen,
dressed in a sailor's jacket, came hurrying up to the smuggler, and
pulled his sleeve, saying, in a low voice, "Come hither--come hither;
I want to speak to you."
The man took a step apart, and bending down his head listened to
something which the boy whispered in his ear. "I will come--I will
come directly," he said, at length, when the lad was done. "Run on and
tell him, little Starlight; for I must get home first for a minute.
Good night, gentlemen," he continued, turning to Mr. Warde and his
companion, "I must go away for a longer walk;" and, without farther
adieu, he began to descend the bank, leaving the two friends to take
their way back to Hythe, conversing, as they went, much in the same
strain as that in which they had indulged while coming thither,
differing in almost every topic, but yet with some undefinable link of
sympathy between them, which nevertheless owed its origin, in the old
man's breast, to very different feelings from those which were
experienced by his younger companion.
CHAPTER V.
There was an old house, built in a style which acquired the mint-mark
of fashion of about the reign of George the First, and was considered
by those of the English, or opposite party, to be peculiarly well
qualified for the habitation of Hanover rats. It stood at a little
distance from the then small hamlet of Harbourne, and was plunged into
one of the southern apertures of the wood of that name, having its
gardens and pleasure-grounds around it, with a terrace and a lawn
stretching out to the verge of a small parish road, which passed at
the distance of somewhat less than a quarter of a mile from the
windows. It was all of red brick, and looked square and formal enough,
with the two wings projecting like the a-kimbo arms of some untamed
virago, straight and resolute as a redoubt. The numerous windows,
however, with very tolerable spaces between them; the numerous
chimneys, with every sort of form and angle; the numerous doors, of
every shape and size, and the square precision of the whole, bespoke
it a very capacious building, and the inside justified fully the idea
which the mind of a traveller naturally formed from the outside. It
was, in truth, a roomy, and in some cases a very convenient abode; but
it was laid out upon a particular plan, which it may not be amiss to
write down, for the practical instruction of the reader unlearned in
such edifices.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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