Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

She sank at her father's knees as she made

this confession.

"AFRAID! My daughter afraid! But never mind, pet; I won't scold you. You are very young, and have no experience of scoundrels. I am afraid it will be found out that Nugent is a scoundrel, and I am very sorry, for my dear friend his uncle's sake.

daughter, always tell me

But, my dear little everything, as your

brother Silvester does. He thinks he likes Louisa, he tells me at once. Why am I left to find out by accident that this fellow Nugent likes

you ?

[ocr errors]

"I don't know," she said. "Even with you,

Papa, I find it difficult to

things."

talk about such

“You little humbug! of course it is difficult to mention to one's father what is the most interesting topic of conversation with any hopeful youth you meet. If girls told their fathers everything, we should get on better. But now to the point. Do you like Nugent, Silvia?"

"I hate him, Papa."

"I won't ask you why, just now, but I think you are right. And now, child, give me a promise. If any man asks you to marry him, tell me, and send him to me for answer.

"I promise, Papa."

That the promise was kept, be sure; for Silvia Silchester (with all her little faults) was a lady.

VOL. I.

14

CHAPTER XVII.

TRAGEDY OR COMEDY?

"Tragedy meaneth blood, murder, and pillage;
Comedy meaneth sweet play in a village."

ALTER NUGENT, having shown

WAL

himself early and active in Silchester, felt pretty sure that his desperate act was unsuspected.

Louisa Saint Osyth, with Mary Clymo at her bedside, had slept soundly enough the first night of her imprisonment. Next morning the sun rose radiant over the waste of waves, and she could see the green Devon coast in the distance. Breakfast was served in a room adjacent to her own, on quaint old china of hideous aspect; but to her annoyance Mary

Clymo was superseded by another attendant, a frightful stalwart woman of forty, who would not answer a single question in a straightforward manner; and who rather rudely made her understand that she could not go beyond the two rooms assigned to her.

Miss Saint Osyth was resolved to be calm, being sure that it was the best policy. She was consoled slightly by having noticed Nugent's yacht going shoreward, as she was dressing; and she rightly conjectured that he had gone to Silchester to show himself and escape suspicion. He would return by-and-by, of course; then, if he dared insult her, she would, though a parson's niece, and a writer of sermonettes, use her saloon-pistol. Thus determined, and finding herself locked into her rooms, she looked round for some occupation. Many books lay about: she discovered they were all French novels of the scrufulous sort. A glance at them was quite enough for Louisa, who was classic in her taste. The only volume

she could tolerate was a little copy of some of Béranger's songs; and, weary of her suspense, she occupied herself by translating one or two of them into English verse. It kept her brain from mechanically perplexing itself with her position.

Be sure that many a time she went to the window to see whether Nugent's boat was coming in sight. Still she judged his policy accurately enough, and did not expect his return till evening. The day was lovely: the deep blue sea lay palpitating under the golden sun like a plain of sapphire. Devon! how ineffably beautiful looked that sinuous coast to the pretty prisoner, who knew all the shore by Mount St. Nicholas, and could almost fancy she saw the great trees dipping their branches into the water-where you may row under an alley of woodland. It was very provoking to feel that all Silchester would be out to rescue her if her prison were known-to see the near shore, and yet be hopeless of help

« НазадПродовжити »