The Argosy — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

98 In the Dead of Night. + doing anything—it did not matter what—so long as he was not out ¢ his master’s sight for many minutes at a time. 7 Then at night, late, when the old house was as quiet as a tomb, St. George would sit in his dressing-room, drinking cold brandy water and smoking cigars till far into the small hours. It was Dobbs’s — duty at such times to sit with his master in a chair removed a few yards away and a little behind that of Mr. St. George. It was not that Kester wanted him there for conversational purposes, for he rarely condescended to speak to him except to ask him for something that he wanted. The man’s silent presence was all that he required, and for such a duty as that Dobbs was invaluable. He never dozed—he would have sat up all night without closing an eye—he never read, he never sneezed or coughed, or made his presence objectionable in any way ; and he never spoke unless first spoken to. Silent, watchful, and alert, he was ennays there and always the same. Mr. St. George never slept without a light in his room, and Dobbs, who had a little sofa-bed in the dressing-room, and who was a remarkably light sleeper, was instructed to arouse his master at once should he hear the latter begin to toss about or moan in his sleep. The eighteenth of January had come. Kester was beginning to think that it was about time his visit to Park Newton should be brought to a close. He had two horses in training at Chantilly on which he based some brilliant expectations, and his heart and thoughts were in the stable with his pets. Every day that he prolonged his stay at Park Newton merely served to deepen his hatred of the place. “I shall have a fit of horrors if I stay here much longer,” he said to himself. ‘‘ T’ll invent some important business and try to get away the day after — to-morrow. I must persuade the old boy to come: ane spend a month with me at Chantilly when the spring sets fairly in.’ Dinner that day was quite an hour later than usual. General St. George had been to see an old friend who was ill, and he-did not get back till late. Contrary to-his usual practice, Richard Dering sat this evening with his uncle and cousin after the cloth was removed. He sat drinking his wine in an absent mood and scarcely joining in the con- versation at all. By-and-by Pearce brought a note to the General on a salver. He put on his spectacles, opened the note, and read it. Then, with a little peevish exclamation, he tossed it into the fire. | “Another of them,” he said. ‘‘ We shall be left before long without a servant to wait onus. I certainly did not anticipate this annoyance when I came to live at Park Newton.” ‘“‘What is the annoyance of which you speak?” asked Kester. “Why, that fellow Finch has just given me notice that he intends to — leave this day month. That will make the sixth of them, man or maid, that has left me since I came here; and I hear that the rest, old pnd new, are all likely to follow suit before long.” mie (E(0) te *