Oldal 178 [178]
130
mowers and haymakers were busy at
“JT am sorry, sir," stammered Oliver,
now and then for a few seconds to reco¬
ver breath, until he emerged in a great
heat, and covered with dust, on the little
market-place of the market-town.
Here he paused, and looked about for
theinn. "There was a white bank, and a
red brewery, and a yellow town-hall ; and
in one corner a large house with all the
wood about it painted green, before which
was the sign of " The George," to which
he hastened directly it caught his eye.
Oliver spoke to a postboy who was
dozing under the gateway, and who, af¬
ter hearing what he wanted, referred him
to the hostler ; who, after hearing all he
had to say again, referred him to the
landlord, who was a tall gentleman in a
blue neckcloth, a white hat, drab breeches,
and boots with tops to match, and was
leaning against a pump by the stable¬
door, picking his teeth with a silver tooth¬
pick.
This gentleman walked with much de¬
liberation to the bar to make out the bill,
which took a long time making out, and
after it was ready, and paid, a horse had
to be saddled, and a man to be dressed,
which took up ten good minutes more ;
meanwhile Oliver was in such a despe¬
rate state of impatience and anxiety that
he felt as if he could have jumped upon
the horse himself, and galloped away full
tear to the next stage. At length all was
ready, and the little parcel having been
handed up, with many injunctions and
entreaties for its speedy delivery, the
man set spurs to his horse, and, rattling
over the uneven paving of the market¬
place, was out of the town, and galloping
along the turnpike-road in a couple of
minutes.
It was something to feel certain that
assistance was sent for, and that no time
had been lost. Oliver hurried up the inn¬
yard with a somewhat lighter heart, and
was turning out of the gateway when he
accidentally stumbled against a tail man
wrapped in a cloak, who was at that mo¬
ment coming out at the inn-door.
“ Hah!” cried the man, fixing his eyes
on Oliver, and suddenly recoiling. ** What
the devil ’s this ?”
6] beg your pardon, sir," said Oliver;
“T was in a great hurry to get home, and
did nt see you were coming.”
* Death!" mutter :d the man to him¬
self, glaring at the boy with his large
dark eyes. " Who d have thought it!
Grind him to ashes! he’d start up from a
marble coffin to ene in my way!"
|
“ T hope I have not hurt you?”
“Rot his bones!” murmured the man
in a horrible passion between his clenched
teeth, “If I had only had the courage to
say the word, I might have been free of
him in a night. Curses light upon your
head, and black death upon your heart,
you imp! What are you doing here?"
The man shook his fist, and gnashed
his teeth, as he uttered these words inco¬
herently, and advancing towards Oliver
as if with the intention of aiming a blow
at him, fell violently on the ground,
writhing and foaming, in a fit.
Oliver gazed for a moment at the fear¬
ful struggles of the madman, (for such he
supposed him to be,) and then darted into
the house for help. Having seen him
safely carried into the hotel, he turned
his face homewards, running as fast as he
could to make up for lost time, and recall¬
ing, with a great deal of astonishment
and some fear, the extraordinary be¬
haviour of the person from whom he had
just parted.
The circumstance did not dwell in his
recollection long, however; for when he
reached the cottage there was enough to
occupy his mind, and to drive all conside¬
rations of self completely from his me¬
Rose Maylie had rapidly grown worse,
and before midnight was delirious. A
spot, was in constant attendance upon
her, and, after first seeing the patient, he
nounced her disorder to be one of a most
alarming nature. § In fact,” he said, “it
would be little short of a miracle if she
recovered.”
How often did Oliver start from his bed
that night, and, stealing out with noise¬
less footstep to the staircase, listen for
the slightest sound from the sick cham¬
ber! How often did a tremble shake his
frame, and cold drops of terror start upon
his brow, when a sudden trampling of
feet caused him to fear that something
too dreadful to think of had even then
occurred. And what had been the fer¬
vency of all the prayers he had ever ut
tered, compared with those he poured
forth now, in the agony and passion of his
supplication, for the life and health of the
gentle creature who was tottering on the
deep grave’s verge!
The suspense, the fearful acute sus¬
pense, of standing idly by while the life