|
||||||||
As I am a gentleman, you do me more honour than I deserve. Justice, Rashleighonly justiceand it is only justice which I expect at your hands. You are a tyrant, Diana, he answered, with a sort of sigha capricious tyrant, and rule your friends with a rod of iron. Still, however, it shall be as you desire. But you ought not to be hereyou know you ought notyou must return with me. Then turning from Diana, who seemed to stand undecided, he came up to me in the most friendly manner, and said, Do not doubt my interest in what regards you, Mr. Osbaldistone. If I leave you just at this moment, it is only to act for your advantage. But you must use your influence with your cousin to return; her presence cannot serve you, and must prejudice herself. I assure you, sir, I replied, you cannot be more convinced of this than I; I have urged Miss Vernons return as anxiously as she would permit me to do. I have thought on it, said Miss Vernon, after a pause, and I will not go till I see you safe out of the hands of the Philistines. Cousin Rashleigh, I daresay, means well; but he and I know each other well.Rashleigh, I will not go;I know, she added, in a more soothing tone, my being here will give you more motive for speed and exertion. Stay then, rash, obstinate girl, said Rashleigh; you know but too well to whom you trust; and hastening out of the hall, we heard his horses feet a minute afterwards in rapid motion. Thank Heaven, he is gone! said Diana. And now, let us seek out the Justice. Had we not better call a servant? Oh, by no means; I know the way to his denwe must burst on him suddenlyfollow me. I did follow her accordingly, as she tripped up a few gloomy steps, traversed a twilight passage, and entered a sort of anteroom, hung round with old maps, architectural elevations, and genealogical trees. A pair of folding-doors opened from this into Mr. Inglewoods sitting apartment, from which was heard the fag-end of an old ditty, chanted by a voice which had been in its day fit for a jolly bottle-song.
Hey day! said Miss Vernon, the genial Justice must have dined alreadyI did not think it had been so late. It was even so. Mr. Inglewoods appetite having been sharpened by his official investigations, he had ante-dated his meridian repast, having dined at twelve instead of one oclock, then the general dining hour in England. The various occurrences of the morning occasioned our arriving some time after this hour, to the Justice the most important of the four-and-twenty, and he had not neglected the interval. Stay you here, said Diana; I know the house, and I will call a servant; your sudden appearance might startle the old gentleman even to choking; and she escaped from me, leaving me uncertain whether I ought to advance or retreat. It was impossible for me not to hear some part of what passed within the dinner apartment, and particularly several apologies for declining to sing, expressed in a dejected croaking voice, the tones of which, I conceived, were not entirely new to me. Not sing, sir? by our Lady! but you mustWhat! you have cracked my silver-mounted cocoa-nut of sack, and tell me that you cannot sing!Sir, sack will make a cat sing, and speak too; so up with a merry stave, or trundle yourself out of my doorsDo you think you are to take up all my valuable time with your dd declarations, and then tell me you cannot sing? |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details. | ||||||||