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It appeared, on inquiry, that Blaize had fallen against one of the pallets in a state almost of insensibility, and the two assistants, chancing to pass at the time, and taking him for a plague patient, had conveyed him to the barn.
"If I find, on my return, that you have neglected my injunctions," he concluded, "as sure as I now stand before you, I'll break every bone in your body." Blaize promised obedience, adding in a supplicating tone, "Leonard, if I were you, I would not go to the Examiner of Health. Poor Stephen may not have the plague, after all.
"So, young gentleman! and you're sorry for the night's work?" "I shall see that you are paid the full extent of your losses." "Thank'ee," said the farmer drily. "And, if this poor man is released to-morrow, I don't care what the amount is." Farmer Blaize deflected his head twice in silence. "Bribery," one motion expressed: "Corruption," the other.
I say, young gentleman, have you spoke to this chap before now?" "I?" replied Richard. "I have not seen him before." Farmer Blaize grasped the two arms of the chair he sat on, and glared his doubts. "Come," said he to the Bantam, "speak out, and ha' done wi't. Say what ye saw, and none o' yer thoughts. Damn yer thoughts! Ye saw Tom Bakewell fire that there rick!"
"What brings you here, sir?" demanded Patience, in alarm, and glancing over her shoulder to see whether any one observed them. "What do you want?" "I have brought you news of Blaize," returned the bully. "But how charmingly you look. By the coral lips of Venus! your long confinement has added to your attractions." "Never mind my attractions, sir," rejoined Patience, impatiently. "Where is Blaize?
As Leonard drew near, he found the assemblage was listening to the exhortations of an enthusiast, whom he instantly recognised from a description he had heard of him from Blaize. The name of this half-crazed being was Solomon Eagle. Originally a Quaker, upon the outbreak of the plague he had abandoned his home and friends, and roamed the streets at night, denouncing doom to the city.
"I have been trying to prevent Leonard Holt from carrying off your master's daughter, the fair Mistress Amabel," answered Pillichody. "But he has accomplished his villanous purpose in spite of me." "The devil he has!" cried Blaize. "Here is a pretty piece of news for my master. But how did you discover him?"
Return in the evening, for I may need your assistance perhaps protection." Leonard then prepared to set forth. Blaize begged hard to accompany him, but was refused. Forcing his way through the host of carts, coaches, drays, and other vehicles thronging the streets, Leonard made the best of his way to Whitehall, where he speedily arrived.
Suffering himself to be drawn along, and closely followed by Nizza Macascree and Mrs. Buscot, Leonard crossed the dining-chamber, not without stumbling against some of the furniture by the way, and through an open window into the court, where he found Blaize awaiting him. Without waiting for thanks, Pillichody then disappeared, and Mrs.
He was "the sweet little fellow" of Mr. Ritchie of the Richmond Inquirer, and "the Northern man with Southern principles" of the Charleston Courier; Mr. Clinton baptized him "the Political Grimalkin;" Mr. Calhoun, "the Weazel;" while he helped himself to the still less flattering name of "the follower in the footsteps" that is, the successor of his predecessor, a sort of masculine Madame Blaize,
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