Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 189: 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. -———— ___([..2 0x86... ees cee er. ore _——aewe_aa‘fTeeV—k_73UTCLS———— ee ff parted, and began taking different ways to reach| “Once again I tell you that I will do my best ; the town. It was our firm intention to pounce upon Dorchester: but all of a sudden a party of gentlemen on horseback appeared close by ‘i “And so you were compelled to let him es- cape P” I said. “ Have you anything more to tell me P” “Nothing, sir: but we thought you might as well know all this—and therefore when we learnt your name i “T understand you. You are confident that the words used by Dorchester were that Monday fortnight they were to meet at Civita Vecchia P” “There was. no mistake as to the words used,” answered the bandit: “for Dorchester spoke them in French—just as any foreigner after having talked a time in his own native language may throw in a phrase or a sentence worded in the lancuage of some other country.” “And the particular date?” I eagerly asked,— “the Monday fortnight thus spoken o ¥ “Tt is for Monday next, sir, that the appoint- ment stands good,” was the prisoner’s response. “ And this is Thursday!” I ejaculated: and to myself I muttered, “Thank heaven, there is plenty of time to institute an investigation into what- soever new plot may be in progress :’—then again addressing myself to the banditti, I said, “ What service is it that you demand at my hands, in re- turn for the information you have thus voluntarily given me P” | “ That little old man, sir, who acts as intepreter, and also as a sort of usher and messenger of the court, is a talkative person in his way; and he got chatting this morning with the sbirri who had us in custody at the forenoon examination before the magistrate. We overheard him speaking about you; and he dropped some hint to the effect that you were in high favour with great personages at Rome,—adding that he wished he was in your place, for he would not show any delicacy in asking for anything he wanted, because he would be sure to get it.” “Well,” I interjected, “and acting upon this hint which the old man so indiscreetly threw out f “ And which we caught up quick enough, sir,” rejoined the bandit, “ although it was not intended for our ears,—we thought perhaps you might in- tercede for us and get some remission of our sen- tence. If you would, we should be very thank- ful ‘i “You have certainly done me a service,” I interrupted the man, “and I hope and believe it is not in my nature to be ungrateful. At the same time, I am well aware that it is through no love of me you have made your present communi- cations: but you are perfectly justified, under the circumstances, in doing the best you can for your- selves. I can pledge myself to nothing more than that I will certainly intercede for you—but the result must necessarily be in the hands of others.” “ We trust entirely, sir, to your goodness,’ was the exclamation of the bandit who had all along been the spokesman; “and depend upon it that if you should be enabled to do anything for us, and if we, being ever again at large in the world, should happen to fall in with you, there is nothing we will not do to show our gratitude.” 3 and if nothing should come of it, you must not conclude that JI have neglected or forgotten you.” Having thus spoken, I pushed against the door of the cell—it opened—and I issued forth,—a turnkey immediately coming forward to secure it upon the felon inmates of that dungeon. officer was no longer in the yard: I gave the pistols to the interpreter, together with a liberal pecuniary recompense for his trouble; and appear- ing not to notice the look of anxious curiosity which he bent upon me, and which seemed to ask what the prisoners had communicated, I sped forth from the guard-house. Re-entering the hackney- coach, which was waiting at a little distance, I ordered the driver to take me at once to the Tivoli palace. During the half-hour occupied in accomplishing the distance, I reflected profoundly upon all that I had heard from the lips of the bandit, That Lanover was meditating fresh mischief against Sir Matthew Heseltine, Annabel, and her mother, I could not doubt: that his iniquitous design either embraced myself, or that another and distinct pro- ject of rascality was directed against my own safety, was almost equally clear; and that Dorchester was now his accomplice, his agent, or his instrument, was still more evident. The reader will bear in mind that by my proceedings at Marco Uberti’s tower, when I was the means of delivering the old Baronet and his family nearly two months pre- vious to the date of which I am now writing,— Lanover’s hopes of extorting a settlement of a thousand pounds a year from Sir Matthew, were destroyed. I had moreover on that occasion—by means of a few words hastily traced with a pencil on a scrap of paper—made the Baronet aware who the author of his captivity was. It was now therefore by no means difficult fo comprehend how Lanover might have ever since found the Baronet deaf to whatsoever overtures or proposals the vile humpback had made to him: and hence, perhaps, the initiation of some new scheme of villany on Lanover’s part. And perhaps, too, he had discovered, since our interview in Florence (at which time he was evidently ignorant of it) that I really must have given Sir Matthew Heseltine some such intimation at the tower: and hence the revival of Lanover’s bitter hostility against me. As for Dorchester—I felt that he could have no very amicable feeling towards me, inasmuch ag I had proved the principal means of uprooting the Uberti gang with whom he was connected in the Apennines, But, ah! while I was thus re- flecting, another thought struck me: it was the reminiscence that according to the statement I had just heard in the prisoner’s cell, the name of Eccleston was mentioned by Lanover and Dorches- ter in the ruin near Magliano. Was that noble- man about to recommence his persecutions of me? was he again finding a too willing agent in Lanover? or was Lanover now playing another game—a game entirely on his own behalf—and dragging the Earl of Eccleston into the proposed Iniquity P “Clouds are gathering thickly,” I said to my- self in sadness of spirit; “and the sky is once more lowering above my head. When will an un- interrupted heaven of peace smile upon my stormy The | ElOOOKKS (©)