Oldal 242 [242]
182
“Have I the lady’s promise for that ?”
asked the girl eagerly.
6 You have,” replied Rose, “my true
and faithful pledge.”
c Monks would never learn how you
knew what you do?” said the girl, after
a short pause.
s Never,” replied the gentleman. “The
intelligence should be so brought to bear
upon him that he could never even guess.”
“T have been a liar and among liars
from a little child,” said the girl, after
another interval of silence, “but I will
take your words.”
After receiving an assurance from both,
that she might safely do so, she proceed¬
ed in a voice so low that it was often diff¬
cult for the listener to discover even the
purport of what she said, to describe by
name and situation the public house
whence she had been followed that night.
From the manner in which she occasion¬
ally paused, it appeared as if the gentle¬
man were making some hasty notes of the
information she communicated. When
she had thoroughly explained the locali¬
ties of the place, the best position from
which to watch it without exciting obser¬
vation, and the night and hour on which
Monks was most in the habit of frequent¬
ing it, she seemed to consider a few mo¬
ments for the purpose of recalling his fea¬
tures and appearance more forcibly to her
recollection.
“He is tall,” said the girl, “and a
stronoly made man, but not stout; he has
a lurking walk, and, as he walks, con¬
stantly looks over his shoulder, first on
one side and then on the other. Don’t
forget that, for his eyes are sunk in his
head so much deeper than any other
man’s, that you might almost tell him by
this alone. His face is dark like his hair
and eyes; but, although he can’t be more
than six or eight and twenty, withered
and haggard. His lips are often disco¬
loured and disfigured with the marks of
times even bites his hands, and covers
them with wounds—why did you start?
said the girl, stopping suddenly.
The gentleman replied in a hurried
manner, that he was not conscious of hav¬
ing done so, and begged her to proceed.
“ Part of this,” said the girl, “I’ve
drawn out from other people at the house
I tell you of, for I have only seen him
twice, and both times he was covered up
in a large cloak. I think that’s all IT can
give yon to know him by. Stay though,”
she added, * upon his throat, so high that
you can see a part of it below his——
neckerchief when he turns his face, there
is
c A broad red mark, like a burn or
scald,” cried the gentleman.
“How’s this?’ said the girl; "you
know him.”’
The young lady uttered a cry of ex¬
treme surprise, and for a few moments
they were so stil] that the listener could
distinctly hear them breathe.
“T think I do,” said the gentleman,
breaking silence. “I should, by your de¬
scription; we shall see. Many people
are singularly like each other though—it
may not be the same.”
As he expressed himself to this effect,
with assumed carelessness, he took a step:
or two nearer Noah, as he could tell from
the distinctness with which he heard him
“ Now,” he said, returning — so it
seemed by the sound—to the spot where
he had stood before, “ you have given us
most valuable assistance, young woman,
and I wish you to be the better for it.
What can I do to serve you?”
“ Nothing,” replied Nancy.
c You will not persist in saying that,”
rejoined the gentleman with a voice and
emphasis of kindness that might have
touched a much harder and more obdurate
heart. Think now; tell me.”
“‘ Nothing, sir,” rejoined the girl, weep¬
ing. “ You can do nothing to help me. I
am past all hope, indeed.”
“You put yourself beyond its pale,”
said the gentleman; “the past has been
a dreary waste with you of youthful ener¬
gies misspent, and such priceless trea¬
sures lavished as the Creator bestows but
once, and never grants again; but for the
future you may hope. I do not say that
it is in our power to offer you peace of
heart and mind, for that must come as you
seek it, but a quiet asylum either in Eng¬
land, or, if you fear to remain here, in
some foreign country, it is not only within
the compass of our ability, but our most
anxious Wish to secure to you. Before
the dawn of morning, before this river
wakes to the fresh glimpse of daylight,
you shall be placed as entirely beyond the
reach of your former associates, and leave
as utter an absence of all traces behind
you, as if you were to disappear from the
earth this moment. Come. I would not
have you go back to exchange one word
with any old companion, or take one look
at any old haunt, or breathe the very air
which is pestilence and death to you.
Quit them all while there is time and¬
opportunity.”