The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 289: what you’re looking at

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

EGOS 268 She struggled hard till her breath began to fail her, and her bosom heaved, and her heart palpitated with exertion. But it was of no avail. It required the aid of another man. Lady Raymond desisted in despair. “We must quit this place,” she said, “and fetch Lord Clement Villiers to our aid.” ‘‘Ts he here, then?” asked the Young Ap- prentice, in an eager voice. “He is. Be of good cheer, you or perish |” Then, after Ettie’s plump little hand had been equeezed in Harold's, they quitted the spot, leaving our hero in a condition which may be better imagined than described. Quitting the dark and gloomy corridor, they emerged once more into the grounds, All was silent there, Silent, save for the sound of the great trees which swayed to and fro in the wind. Silent, save forthe twitterings and ruatlings of the birds of night. Swiftly Lady Raymond made her way towards that part of the grounds which was enclosed by a high wall. . Here she stopped. Then, looking around her carefully to see that they were not watched, she took up a stone and sent it flying over the wall, In a moment after there was an answering sequel. A stone fell at their feet. ‘‘Good,” said Lady Raymond, * good; he is here. Now let us creep underneath the wall, and keep ourselves concealed, for the next stone he throws will be larger and might strike us.” The two disguised women now crept beneath the high wall for protection. But, no sooner had they done so, than a light came gleaming out over the grounds from the large doorway, and, in a moment after, a num- ber of armed men sallied forth. ‘Keep close,” cried Lady Raymond; “close here beneath the shadows, or we shall be dis- covered after al).”’ Ettie needed no reminding. Her heart was in the enterprise. Every successful movement was one step nearer to the dearest wish of her young life. So, creeping in among the shadows, she huddled herself away, so that her form seemed a part of the tangled ivy which grew over this portion of the wall. The men spread themselves quickly over the grounds, Lady Raymond was in a state of nervous terror. ‘‘T fear we are too late,” she said; “we shall be discovered.”’ Meanwhile we must take a glance at the pro- ceedings of Lord ‘Clement Villiers, upon whom all their hopes depended. Lord Villiers and his wife had been called to London on special business. The character of the administration of the country having at last changed so completely— the mockery of monarchy having been abolished, and England having resolved to govern in her own name and in her own interest—Lord Villiers was summoned to London as one of the country’s best and bravest friends, We will save THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, The night before the attempted escape, we find him ensconced with his lovely wife in a room in a house near the Whitehall, which had proved so fatal to Charles I. The apartment was replete with every luxury, and Lord Villiers, seated by the, glowing fire with the armsof his beloved wife around his neck, and smiling down upon his beaming face, looked the very impersonation of happiness. He was not a man to cast aside the cravings of ambition for domestic happiness. He had his share, with other men, of that yearning after distinction, which is the guiding atar of existence. Bat, amid his household gods, he was happy. All of us must have felt this. No matter how much we love distinction— no matter how much we crave to mount the ladder in advance of our fellow men—there are eyes which controul us far more successfully than the commands of our political chiefs, voices which have more power in their gentleness than the calls of our country, arms whose glidings around our necks would urge us on to more daring deeds than the symboled arms of ambi- e tion, forms at whose feet we would worship, . far sooner and far more eagerly, than at the feet of Victory or Glory ! These eyes—these voices— these arms—these forms, are those of the women we love, who are our Wives, our Mothers, our Sisters, our Friends ! And so as Lord Clement felt the warm arm of his young and beautiful wife around his neck, and saw her lovely face upturned to his, and teyed with the rich curls which fell over ber bare shoulders, white as milk, be felt as if no ambitious schemes could ever wean him from her. Just as their lips were meeting in gq long, fervent kiss, a loud knock came at the door. Lady Villiers flang herself back, and drew herself into a chair. “ Come in,” cried Lord Clement, with a frown, The door was flung open. Without stood a page. “ What is it?” cried Villiers. “ Did you not understand that I wished not to be disturbed ?”’ The page bowed lowly. Then he advanced into the room. Yes, my lord,” he said ; ‘‘ but Iam so aware of your generous nature, that, when I under- atand it to be a matter of life or death, I am sure of your attention.” Villiers smiled, ‘You were ever a courtier, James,” he said, ‘ But, tell me, what is the matter?” The page presented a letter. ‘A messenger in hot haste has brought this for you,” he said, Lord Villiers took it, and scanned eagerly its contents. ‘¢ Ah !” he oried, “ my friend, Harold Fordyce, in danger, and Ettie Leslie, the daughter of the armourer, moreover, Ah! this must be seen to at once,” He sprang up. ‘¢ Blanche,” be cried, “I must away.” She flew to his side. “Think of “No, no, Olement,” she cried, me—think of——”’ ‘‘ Nay, then, I can think of nothing,” he said. EDOOo y a; -4 a ) \ 4