Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

a SN EL Tae 118 Charlotte again surveyed me with astonishment : but I could see that as she reflected for a few instants, she thought more highly of me than even she had done before. “You are an extraordinary youth,’ she ob- served, with a smile, displaying her white teeth; “and if you were a few years older I should be very apt to fall in love with you. But seriously speaking, Joseph—short as is the time we have been acquainted, I have conceived a very sincere friendship for you, and I shall always be glad to hear of your welfare. Now, as to this bank-note,” she continued, receiving it back again from my hands, “we will say no more about it. Rest assured, however, that I shall inform Lady Ca- lanthe of everything which has just passed be- tween us. By the bye, Joseph, I was going to ask you a question—but it’s of no great conse- quence :” and she blushed somewhat, looking a little confused. “Do speak, Charlotte: what was it you were going to say ?” “Oh, only through mere curiosity—whether you made any arrangement to correspond with Charles Linton ?”—and again she blushed, so that I suspected she had been rather smitten with Mr. Ravenshill’s handsome valet when we met him at Exeter. No,” I answered, with a smile; “I made no such arrangement. But I have not the slightest doubt that now Charles knows where I am living, he will write to me: and depend upon it, Char- lotte,” I added, still smiling, “I will show you the letter. He is a very kind-hearted, good, steady young man ce “Oh, I have no doubt of it,” ejaculated Char- lotte, as she averted her blushing countenance : and here the colloquy ended. That same afternoon I happened to meet Lady Calanthe on the stairs; and I could not help thinking that she regarded me in a way as if she were by no means offended at my having refused the bank-note. I was well pleased at this idea; inasmuch as I would not for the world have suf- fered in the opinion of so amiable a young lady who had shown me so much kindness. A month passed away: several parties were given; and my fellow-servants assured me that ever since they had been at the Lodge, they had never known so much gaiety. Nothing was heard by the Exeter constables of Tom Taddy or Bill Blackbeard ; and therefore I presumed these in- dividuals had at once fled precipitately out of the neighbourhood, on the failure of their burglarious attempt at Myrtle Lodge. - Neither did Lady Georgiana take any steps to procure another ““companion:” the society of her sister was no doubt sufficient for the present. The incident I am now about to relate, occurred at the expiration of the month to which I have just alluded. It was one forenoon, on a fine frosty day at the end of January, that Mr. Tiverton gave me a letter to take across to a gentleman who dwelt at a distance of about a mile and a half from Myrtle Lodge. The weather was cold, with a healthy bracing breeze, and not with that search- ing, nipping chill which so often prevails at the particular season of which I am writing. The sky was of almost unclouded blue,—the uniformity of the cerulean expanse being scarcely broken by JOSEPH WILMOT; ——-- OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. a few thin fleecy vapours. The earth was as hard as marble,—one’s footsteps sounding upon the ground, and the tread being free and elastic. In short, it was one of those days when the frame seems invigorated by exercise—a warmth is speedily infused into the blood—the circulation becomes rapid—and the spirits rise accordingly. My way lay through the fields, which were intersected by a beaten path,—so that there was no necessity to tread upon the grass, on which the frost glittered like myriads of seed-pearls. I had traversed a couple of fields, when I observed Lady Georgiana and her sister Calanthe, walking at some little distance ahead. I had just crossed the stile lead- ing into the third field, in the middle of which T had thus caught sight of them,—when all in an instant, shrieks of terror smote my ears :—wild screams of horrible alarm they were ;—shrill, rending, and penetrating, they rang through the clear frosty air! At the same moment, both Lady Georgiana and Lady Calanthe came flying back towards the stile; and the cause of all this as promptly met my eye. An infuriate bull was rushing across the field ;—and scarcely had those piercing shrieks proclaimed the alarm of the affrighted ladies, when the bellowing of the monster sounded like the savage roar of a wild beast in a forest. As if wings were fastened to my feet, IT rushed forward. I ran no, it was not running—it was absolute flying!—and as I thus sped along, I was astonished at the miraculous rate at which I passed over the ground. It seemed as if I were borne on the pinions of the wind. But the mad bull was gallopping onward at a still faster pace,—tossing his head, and bel- lowing horribly. Lady Georgiana was in advance of Lady Calanthe: both were running for their lives,—but the former, having turned first, thus kept ahead of her apparently doomed sister. A horrible crisis seemed to be at hand: the danger was terrific. On came the infuriate animal; Lady Georgiana was screaming wildly—but her sister Calanthe had ceased to cry out. Suddenly, to my anguish and dismay, Lady Calanthe fell down: she had evi- dently swooned with affright! Another moment, and she would have been gored to death: but with my hat held forward in one hand, and a red silk pocket handkerchief in the other, I rushed straight at the mad bull,—resolved that, if 1 could not thus succeed in terrifying it, I would at least become its victim, in the hope of appeasing its rage or diverting its attention from Calanthe Dundas. The effect was fortunately instantane- ous: the bull stopped short so suddenly that it fell back upon its haunches, just like a horse that is rearing. And then, as 1 waved my ‘kerchief before its eyes,—myself being but three feet dis- tant from its tremendous horns,—it turned abruptly round, and gallopped away,—neither bellowing nor tossing its head any longer. I caught up Lady Calanthe in my arms. I called out to Lady Georgiana to turn and lend me her assistance—but she sped on towards the stile, still screaming wildly. How she scrambled over it, I know not: but certain it is that as I dragged Lady Calanthe, who was still in a deep swoon, towards that point, I perceived that my mistress was lying—also inanimate—on the opposite side of the stile. Looking round, to assure myself (C@) im EOUNICLDOOLS