Black Bess; or, the Knight of the Road — page 176: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

1548 that you promise to remain. I have a kind of presenti- ment that Roderic will smooth over all matters and make your absence at all unnecessary.” ‘You speak like one ignorant of the world,” was the reply. ‘Your brother cannot but be fully aware of his true position-—he must know that, once again »**o¢nised as Sir Ralph’s son, he will be entitled to rank wisi the first gentlemen in the county. He will naturally expect that you will do something to extend, or, at any rate, keep up his influence, and when he learns that you have been so unwise as to bestow your affections on a buinble dependant like myself ” “No, no—not unwise—surely not wowise!” she inter- rupted. But her companion, without heeding the interruption, continued : ‘ And above all, when he learns that I have been so forgetful of myself—so base, so ungenerous as to make known my own affection, his breast will be filled with anger, he will forget the happy days we spent together years ago—he will have me driven ignominiously forth.” | ‘Oh, Ernest,” answered the young girl, speaking with difficulty through her tears, “you fill my heart with sorrow, and yet I trust that in all yeu say you may be mistaken. I know my brother better than you do; be- sides, there is my father, and if he could once be relieved from my stepmother’s influence, I am sure he would gladly give his consent and approval, for you are a favourite of his, and he so much values my happiness that he would refuse me nothing.” “Well, well—it may be so,” said the young man, soothingly, ‘but I am afraid to flatter myself with such hopes, lest my disappointment should be greater than | can bear.” “At anyrate, promise not to be hasty; do not leave here until I have seen Roderic, and until you have seen him, too.” ‘“‘T promise readily ; and now, although I would gladly linger, let us leave this place; the air 1 cold and damp, and cannot but injuriously affect you. A few more moments of happiness, then we must part.” With a slow, lingering step, the lovers left the door- way of the summer-house. As soon as they had departed, Tom King rose to his feet. “Oh,” he ejaculated, “that’s how the land lies, is it ? Well, I comprehend the situation of affairs at the hall much better than I did. And as for you,” he continued, glancing in the direction the lovers had taken, “I will try what my intercession can do on your behalf. Now, then, for action.” When Tom emerged from the summer-house he glanced around him, but found no one in sight or hearing. Accordingly, he gave himself another hearty shake, en- deavouring by this means to promote the circulation of his blood, fomhis sleep on the damp leaves had chilled him to the bone. ‘his done, he looked to his weapons, and having seen them in proper order, moved off in the direction ot the spot where he had left his horse. When just about to break through the thicket, how- ever, he heard a slow and heavy footstep somewhere close at hand. He became motionless instantly, and bent all his ener- | gies to the faculty ot listening. ‘he footstep became more and more distinct, and Tom fixed his eyes in the direction from which the sound came. Then emerging and growing as it were out of tba sur- rounding gloom, he perceived the bulky figuras of a man. Tom did not venture to breathe. He trusted that the trees close against whieh he stood would render him invisible. Nearer and nearer came this man, and on a closer ap- proach T’om recognised him. It was the man he had seen tampering with the letter- bag—the under-steward, in fact, for such was the pest he was supposed to fill. Tom began to be afraid that his intention was to pene- trate the very thicket close to which he stood; but his BLACK BESS; OR, — same sharp pace, and taking a course that was co paratively speaking free from trees. Tom watched hin; until he was almost out of sight, and then he thought to himself : ‘Surely the chief thing I have to do in this affair is to keep the closest vossible watch upon this man and his proceedings. What can I do better than dog his footsteps and see where he is going at this lonely hour with so much secrecy and caution ?” Almost before he had finished these reflections, Tom King was treading stealthily and noiselessly in the steps of ‘ne under-steward, following him like his shadow, and screening himself from observation by means of the thick trunks of the old trees. He was not long in finding that the direction the under- steward was taking led to the plantation. He did nov penetrate iuto its recesses, however, but kept upon its outer edge until he again turned to the right, and was almost lost to sight among the underwood. Tom followed closely, but with redoubled caution, for not only was the nature of the ground such as to render noiseless progress almost impossible, but just then the full moon rose up clear and bright from behind a low bauk of clouds on the horizon. s All at once the under-steward paused, and so did om, The two men were then something more thana hune- dred yards apart. Tom crouched down among the luxurious under- ¢rowth, and fortunate it was that he did so, for the under-steward, turning round, and shading his eyes with his hand, looked peeringly and scrutinisingly in every direction. Then, apparently satisfied that he was alone, he himself crouched down behind the massive trunk of a huge tree, that probably had been blown down by tho wind. So great was the thickness of this fallen truok, that, when the under-steward crouched down behind it, he was almost hidden from observation. Tom wondered what he could want there. But for the rustling and sighing of the wind among the tree-tops, a profound silence prevailed. Time passed on. The under-steward made no movement, but Tom King, little by little, @ecreased the distance between them. Higher and higher rose the moon, and presently Tom found, oa getting nearer to the under-steward, that the position the latter had taken up was such as commanded a full view of the lane leading from the village to the hall, along which ‘om King had himself so lately passed. Just as he made this discovery, Tom King remembered the strange-looking firearm which he had caught the under-steward so sedulously polishing, and then it flashed into his mind with great suddenness and with the full force of a conviction, that this man was lying in wait there for some one, who would be favoured with the con- tents of the weapon. ‘l‘om determined to creep closer still, so as to baulk him in his purpose, but just then he heard a faint sound, and directly afterwards the dusky-looking figure of 9 man, wrapped in a large riding-cloak, came into view. As he advanced, the moonlight shining upon him dis- played his form with great distinctness. CHAPTER CLUXLV. THE ASSASSINATION IN THE WOOD AT WILFIRS CROSS. As quick as thought the under-steward raised his gun. He rested the barrel upon a projecting branch of the old trunk, and took a rapid yet steady aim. Tom guessed his fass: purpose, and sprang forward. But his interference came too late. There was no sound, no report, or pw of smoke, but the stranger in the cloak uttered an odd, gasping cry, clasped his hands over his breast, and fell heavily to the ground, It was at this moment that Tom panncadl upon the under-steward from behind. A yell of fear and rage broke from his lips when he tound himself roughly grasped. ‘ Villain—murderer !” cried Tom, closing with him, alarm on this point was quickly dissipated, for the under- | and putting forth his best strength; ‘‘ you have been seem, steward turned sharply to the left, walking on at the | an¢ shall at least reap the reward of your villany !” (eo) JOOKS G (€ (0)