The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3) — John Shaqi
The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3)Wood, Henry, Mrs.
General
The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 3 (of 3)
Wood, Henry, Mrs.
Fiction
"Why, in course he does, ma'am," was Hatch's rejoinder. "He couldn't
be off guessing it for himself, and the rest I told him. Why, ma'am,
without his helping, we could never keep it dark from the servants at
home. It was better to make a confidant of Perry, that I might have
his aid in screening the trouble, than to let it get round to
everybody. He's as safe and sure as I be, and when it all first came
out to him, he cried over it, to think of what his poor master must
have suffered in mind before death took him. Well, ma'am, I made haste
over my breakfast, and I went upstairs, and there was the bottles and
the corkscrew, so I whips 'em off the table and puts them out of
sight. Mrs. Brightman comes up presently, and looks about and goes
down again. Three separate times she comes up, and the third time she
gives the bell a whirl, and in runs the chambermaid, who was only
outside. 'I gave orders this morning,' says my lady, 'to have some
brandy placed in the room.' 'Oh, I have got the brandy,' says I,
before the girl could speak; 'I put it in the little cupboard here,
ma'am.' So away goes the girl, looking from the corners of her eyes at
me, as if suspicious I meant to crib it for my own use: and my
mistress began: 'Draw one of them corks, Hatch.' 'No, ma'am,' says I,
'not yet; please don't.' 'Draw 'em both,' says missis--for there are
times," added Hatch, "when a trifle puts her out so much that it's
hazardous to cross her. I drew the cork of one, and missis just
pointed with her finger to the tumbler on the wash-handstand, and I
brought it forward and the decanter of water. 'Now you may go,' says
she; so I took up the corkscrew. 'I told you to leave that,' says she,
in her temper, and I had to come away without it, and the minute I was
gone she turned the key upon me. Miss Annabel, I see the words are
grieving of you, but they are the truth, and I can but tell them."
"Is she there now--locked in?" asked Miss Brightman.
"She's there now," returned Hatch, with solemn enunciation, to make up
for her failings in grammar, which was never anywhere in times of
excitement; "she is locked in with them two bottles and the corkscrew,
and she'll just drink herself mad--and what's to be done? I goes at
once to Perry and tells him. 'Let's get in through the winder,' says
Perry--which his brains is only fit for a gander, as I've said many a
time. 'You stop outside her door to listen again downright harm,' says
I, 'that's what you'll do; and I'll go for Miss Brightman.' And here
I'm come, ma'am, running all the way."
"What can I do?" wailed Miss Brightman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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