The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

‘ . iN = ¢ a THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, was, as I have said, about a week after the terrible scenes at Lord Raymond's house— Harold Fordyce sat down, as he had done some few days before, to a solitary meal in the supper room, He was not long alone, however. He heard alight foot descending the stairs, and presently Ettie Leslie entered the room. “ T am come to supper with you, Harold,” she said, with a blush and a smile, as she sat down near him, “and to thank you for your noble conduct to me,” Harold flushed, too, at this—a crimson glow overspreading his handsome features. “TI only did my duty,” he said, in a quiet tone, Ettie, as he spoke, caught sight of his hand, On the back of it wasa large scar. “What is that ?” she asked. “Only a burn,” he said. ‘I got that when opening the door of your room to get you out of t ne fire, That is nothing; it will soon go ry Paid ‘J am sorry to #ee you in any tronble through mé,” she said, with a tear in her eye. TIT shall never be able to repay yeu.” Harold glanced at her for a moment hesita- tingly. is youthful heart had not yet learned courage to speak words of love. “Oh ! yes you will, Ettie ; you have,” he said ; ‘your kindness is worth to me all the world. Any danger I may have passed through for your ‘sake is amply repeid by a smile from you.” “ As your danger for my sister's sake is repaid by a kies and the present of a brooch.” Harold started, Again the thought entered his mind that it was Jealousy which had occasioned Ettie’s sor- row on the eventful night when she was carried off by Lord Raymond, A rush of pleasurable emotion entered his heart, and, following an enthusiastic feeling of love, he threw himself on his knees before the young girl. Seizing her hand, he pressed it passionately to his lips. “Oh! Ettie,” he cried, “believe me, your sister is an object of aversion and distrust to me, If she kissed my brow, and gave me a brooch, it was not from my seeking. Ettie, I love you dearly; I love you with all my heart and soul. The reason I have so long foreborne to tell you this is that I know I am but a humble apprentice, and have no right to aspire to wed my master’s danghter. If, however, in the future I can win distinction ; if I can make myself worthy of you, I will come to you, and ask your love ; but I cannot hope that now you, in your position of wealth and happiness, can care for the poor, portionless river boy, whom chance has made an apprentice.” Kittie was weeping now. Harold's last words were said in so cheerless and wistful a tone, that she felt her heart break- ing for him. Yet what could she say to cheer him? what but the first words that sprang to her lips? ‘Then you think I would like you only be- cause you were rich and powerful P”’ ‘© No—no, I do not say that.”’ * Then what do you mean ?” ~ “ Pde not know. Oh, Ettie, do you love me now !” The last words were said gushingly, as if a strange, unknown power within him forced them from him, The young girl drooped her head over his, till her dark, bright curia, nestled on his cheek, “Yes, Harold, I do love you.” He sprang up at once, and, sitting down by her side, clasped her round the waist, and pressed a kiss upon her lips—the firat kiss of ove, That first kiss of love, how sweet it is, how utterly impossible to renew ! “ Dearest Ettie,’”” he murmured, “I will fight my way to distinction for you; I will win honour for you.” “ Hush ! some one is coming,” said Ettie, There was no time, however ; before she could move from his side, the door was opened, and the armourer entered. Harold naturally expected that the armourer would resent his familiarity, But it was not so. | He smiled as he entered thé room. ‘¢ Ah,”’ he said, “ you youttg people are enjoy- ing yourselves, I see.” Ettie blushed violently, and Harold — not much better— sprang to his feet, and could scarcely answer for himself. “You will excuse my temerity, I trust, sir,” he said. The armourer looked grave in a moment. ‘“ Harold,” he said, ‘there is one thing neces- sary between us, and that is, confidence. Yor understand what I mean, However, some day, when all the mysteries around me ate cleared up, we may be more to one another than “you think. In the meantime, Ettie owes you her life, and I hope you will be the best of friends,” “ That we shall always be ko, sir,” said Harold, ‘Sig my most earnest wish.” “Some day you may say differently,” said Frank Leslie; “but, tell me, have you seen Quelf prowling about here? ”’ “T have not, sir.” “He must have been, or he knows more than I imagined,” returned the armourer, “It seems that he has given information to Cromwell that I am a traitor, and that beneath my house I have subterranean passages where the Royalists meet. Now this, you know, is false,” Harold thought a moment, This moment was propitious for a confession, His heart warmed towards the armourer as Ettie's father. Should he tell all he knew? Why not? Frank Leslie was a friend to Cromwell. Alicia, who aided the conspirators, was a Royalist, truly, but he was no party to her treachery. He reaolvea to follow the bent of his inclina- tions, and confess all he had so mysteriously learned. “ Mr. Leslie,” he said, “I fancy I can explain . some of this, if you have the patience to listen.” COANE IOS