Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 268: what you’re looking at

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

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. addressing me in a coaxing, cajoling style; “but | when you come to learn my motives, you will per- haps think less harshly of me.” *‘ And those motives, sir?” I inquired curtly. “Look you, Joseph,” continued Mr. Lanover ; “T am a gentleman—you are perhaps aware that I was once a partner in an eminent banking firm And you too are a gentleman by birth. Think you, therefore, that it was very pleasant for me to reflect that my own nephew—for such indeed you are—had sunk into the degradation of a lacquey wearing the livery of servitude? But I saw that you were obstinate—that you had conceived a pre- judice against me—and that as you would not live beneath the roof of that home which I offered you, you had indeed no alternative, if thus abandoned to yourself, but to earn your bread by such means. Well, then, what was I-do, in order to snatch you away from a course of life which it pained, afflicted, and humiliated-me to behold you pursuing? I resolved to send you out to New South Wales, where I have influential friends and connexions. To their charge would you have been consigned: they would have given you a respectable, a confi- dential, and a lucrative situation in their immense mercantile establishment. You would have had an opportunity of paving the way towards the acquirement of an independence—perhaps of wealth. These were my views, Joseph. But how could I deal with such an obstinate, headstrong, perverse, and self-willed young man as you had proved your- self to be, except by stratagem and violence? Now you comprehend what my motives were; and instead of entertaining this bitter rancour against me, you ought to view my conduct ina generous light and express your gratitude.” I listened to this long tirade with some degree of impatience: for not a single syllable of it did I believe. I had it on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I was aware of the murderous purpose which he had on a former occasion entertained towards me: but the same consideration which had sealed my lips on the point when I met him in Aldersgate Street about ten months back, still ren- dered me silent: for I saw that if I betrayed my knowledge of his assassin-purpose at the time when T fled from his house, it would be at once making him aware that Annabel must have listened to what was then going on between himself and Taddy, and that she had communicated everything to me. “Mr. Lanover,” I said, “you have told me a long tale: but not for a moment will I so stultify myself, or consent to appear so ridiculously insen- sate and credulous in your eyes, as to even seem to believe it. No, sir—I believe not a single word of all you have told me!” A devilish expression for a moment flitted over the humpback’s horrible countenance: but it instantaneously vanished under the powerful effort which he evidently made to curb his hateful feelings ; and he said in a voice more coaxing and cajoling than even his previous tones had been, “Joseph, will you come home with me—and I pledge you my soul that you shall be married to Annabel.” The bare idea of such happiness conjured up a quick glow of animation to my countenance: but its expression instantaneously grew sad and stern again, as the remembrance flashed to me of the 255 deeply insidious wiles with which the wicked humpback had inveigled me to the den where I was plunged into a dungeon and thence removed on board the emigrant-ship. This same recollec- tion, so vividly brought back to my mind, made me shudder with apprehension lest even at the present moment I was incurring some new danger at Mr. Lanover’s hands. A voice seemed to be whispering in my soul that I must beware of him —that I must shun him—that I must place my- self in security against his machinations; for that he was a man who would leave no stone un- turned in the endeavour to carry out his detestable projects. } “Mr. Lanover,’ I said, as all these thoughts swept like a hurricane through my brain, “I will reflect upon what you have proposed, and will give you my decision presently. Go and transact your business with Mr. Duncansby: but beware how you breathe a syllable to that gentleman which shall be calculated to prejudice me in his estimation.” “ And you, on your part, Joseph,” replied Mr. Lanover, “ will keep silence “ Yes. Have I not already done so?” I in- terrupted him. “Have I not endured more at your hands than any other being on the face of the earth would have done?—and have I not suffered it all in silence? Now go to Mr. Dun- cansby; and when you have finished with that gentleman, come to me here.” Mr. Lanover lingered for a few moments, as if somehow or another he did not altogether like the arrangement and would have much preferred that we should not be separated even though for a few minutes: but he offered no verbal remonstrance. Perhaps he thought it better not to betray a fear which would be to me in the light of a suggestion. He accordingly issued from the chamber: but my own thoughts had already proven amply sug- gestive. Scarcely had I heard the door of Mr. Duncausby’s room close behind the humpback, when I hastened down to the stable and ordered the groom to saddle immediately the horse that had brought me thither, telling him that I was bound at once for Edinburgh on urgent business at Mr. Duncansby’s command. Mounting the horse, I galloped away from the hotel: but in- stead of taking the road to Edinburgh, struck | into that which led towards Carrondale. While thus speeding along, I reconsidered all the motives which had urged me to this precipitate flight. I knew that Mr. Lanover had on one occasion sought my life: on another occasion he had kidnapped me and placed me on board an emigrant-ship bound to the nethermost parts of the earth; and on this present occasion, at the hotel at Perth, I had seen enough in the cajolery of his language, the ingenious but nevertheless incredible explanations he had given of his past conduct, and the fiend-like expression which had flitted over his countenance—as well as in his offer that I should accompany him to London, and his reluctance to lose sight of me,—lI beheld in all these evidences, I say, sufficient to convince me that he meditated fresh treacheries. tives for his past persecutions, mysterious and in- comprehensible though they were, nevertheless still undoubtedly remained not merely in exist- ence, but in all their pristine force; and I knew The moss a OOO) <S co im