Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 200: what you’re looking at

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| JOSEPH WILMOT; he would give me half-a-dozen inches of cold steel. This frightful menace had not however the effect of rendering me tractable: I was too much excited with the horrible fears which tortured my mind, to surrender up my young life without every pos- sible effort to defend it: for the agonizing convic- tion was strong within me that Lanover and his accomplices were about to bear me away to some place where they meant to murder me. I therefore struggled with all my might and main: the handker- chief became loosened over my mouth—and I sent forth a terrific cry for assistance. Then the ruffian Blackbeard dealt me with his clenched fist a furi- ous blow on the side of the head, which deprived me of my senses. When I slowly came back to consciousness—and as the numbness of my hitherto suspended facul- ties was gradually and gradually yielding to the return of the vital power—I became aware that I was lying on the damp ground, enveloped in utter darkness. My head felt dull and giddy with the effects of the tremendous blow I had received : it seemed as if I were awaking slowly out of a slum- ber that had been troubled by painful and hideous dreams: but I could not long shut out from my conviction the appalling reality. Where was I? I raised myself to a sitting posture and strained my eyes in the hope of penetrating the darkness which entombed me: but it was black and imper- vious as that which fell upon Egypt as a plague: 2b was veritably a darkness that could be felt. The idea—the hideous idea stole into my mind that I was in some subterranean dungeon: and the blood stagnated in my veins at the thought. I stretched out my arms: one of my hands en- countered the rough masonry of a wall: I groped about me and ascertained sufficient to convince me that I was in an underground cellar. So dark was the place whence it opened,—area, kitchen, or passage, or whatever the locality might be,— that not even the faintest, feeblest glimmering of day—no, not so much as the thinnest thread of light penetrated through key-hole or crevice in the door. But, Ah! the thought smote me that perhaps it was night! Perhaps I had remained stunned and insensible in that place for many long hours. I began to deliberate. No: several circum- stances gradually led to the conviction that I had not been long there. If I had lain a considerable time on that damp ground, my limbs would have been stiff and aching: whereas the only pains I felt were in the side of my body and on my temple, from the effects of Blackbeard’s brutal usage. Again, if I had been there many hours, I should experience a faintness through want of food : but such was not the case. Suddenly I recollected that though I could not see my watch, I might yet feel the exact position of the hands, and thus ascertain the time. But my watch was gone. I felt in my pockets: my purse containing all my money—every farthing I possessed in the world— was likewise gone. Oh! fool that I was, I thought to myself, to eare about the loss of watch and purse, when per- haps it was my life that was in a short time to be taken. . For what other purpose could I have been immured in this horrible cellar? Besides, did I not know that Lanover and Taddy had once before purposed to assassinate me ?—and doubtless the same motive which then influenced them, was in- OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 187 fluencing them now. Oh mysterious and wnac- countable motive! How was it possible that the life of so obscure and humble a being as myself, was of such importance as an obstacle in the pathway of any one, that it would be worth while to commit a horriblé crime to extinguish it! Ah! and this young life of mine, too, was so precious to me—I had so much to live for Annabel, beloved Annabel! was I doomed never to behoid thee more ? But it would fill volumes to record the anguished reflections which swept through my mind for the . first hour after I came to my senses in that cellar. This very fever of the imagination however ex- hausted itself at length: the tremendous excitement which was thus sustained for a time, wore itself out—and a certain degree of calmness ensued. I now began to deliberate with myself in a more eollected and rational manner. If the intention of Mr. Lanover and his two unscrupulous agents ° were really to make away with me, why had not the fatal blow been stricken’ when I was first brought down in a state of unconsciousness to my present place of captivity? wherefore should I have been left to regain my senses, and thus be in a position to offer at least some little resistance to my murderous assailants when the fatal moment should arrive? The longer I thus meditated, the more certain did it appear to me that it was not my life which was now sought—but that I was reserved for some other fate. And if so, what fate? Was it to be an eternal captivity? Ah! if T were to remain in this horrible dungeon, death would soon come to relieve me of my sufferings, and to save my persecutors any farther trouble with regard to me. The idea that I might now be in a place whence I might possibly never go forth alive, renewed all the horrible anguish of my mind; and [I cried out in the loudest, most piercing, penetrating tones for mercy from my persecutors, and for help from whomsoever could afford it. But the horrible con- viction soon forced itself upon my mind that the walls of my prison-place beat back the accents of anguish which thrilled from my lips;—and ex- hausted with my vain exertions, T sank down on the damp ground in the stupor of despair. Presently I heard a key grating in the lock; and I sprang up in a singular state of wild hope and frantic terror blended and conjoined—a hope that I was about to be set at liberty, and terror that the moment of foul murder was now at hand. As the huge door slowly opened, the feeble light of a candle ‘threw its sickly beams into the place ; and Mrs. Hartley, the woman of the house, made her appearance, with Taddy and Bill Blackbeard close behind her. She held the candle in one hand —a plate of bread and cold meat in the other; and she said in an abrupt manner, “ There is some- thing for you to eat.” And this was the woman who had ere now af- fected to wipe her eyes at Mr. Lanover’s allusions to his wife and his daughter! The'vile hypocrite ! Nevertheless I threw myself at her feet and im- plored her to liberate me: I addressed likewise the most passionate entreaties to the two men, who evidently came as an escort to protect her:—but my prayers were useless. The plate of food and a jug of water were set down upon the ground—the door closed again—the key grated in the lock— a Gioo Cc (0)