What Will He Do with It? — Volume 10Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
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What Will He Do with It? — Volume 10
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
This matter settled, and Merle's future secured in a way that his stars,
or his version of their language, had not foretold to him, George and
Waife walked on to the station, Merle following with the Parson's small
carpet-bag, and Sir Isaac charged with Waife's bundle. They had not gone
many yards before they met Hartopp, who was indeed on his way to Prospect
Row. He was vexed at learning Waife was about to leave so abruptly; he
had set his heart on coaxing him to return to Gatesboro' with himself-
astounding Williams and Mrs. H., and proclaiming to Market Place and High
Street, that, in deeming Mr. Chapman a good and a great man disguised,
he, Josiah Hartopp, had not been taken in. He consoled himself a little
for Waife's refusal of this kind invitation and unexpected departure, by
walking proudly beside him to the station, finding it thronged with
passengers--some of them great burgesses of Ouzelford--in whose presence
he kept bowing his head to Waife with every word he uttered; and, calling
the guard--who was no stranger to his own name and importance--he told
him pompously to be particularly attentive to that elderly gentleman, and
see that he and his companion had a carriage to themselves all the way,
and that Sir Isaac had a particularly comfortable box. "A very great
man," he said, with his finger to his lip, "only he will not have it
known--just at present." The guard stares, and promises all deference--
opens the door of a central first-class carriage--assures Waife that he
and his friend shall not be disturbed by other passengers. The train
heaves into movement--Hartopp runs on by its side along the stand--his
hat off-kissing his hand; then, as the convoy shoots under yon dark
tunnel, and is lost to sight, he turns back, and seeing Merle, says to
him, "You know that gentleman--the old one?"
"Yes, a many year."
"Ever heard anything against him?"
"Yes, once--at Gatesboro'."
"At Gatesboro'!--ah! and you did not believe it?"
"Only jist for a moment, transiting."
"I envy you," said Hartopp; and he went off with a sigh.
CHAPTER VII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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