United States or Wallis and Futuna ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was striking five when he again knocked at Dr. Cannonby's. He wished to see Captain Cannonby still; it would be the crowning confirmation. But he had no doubt whatever that that gentleman's report would be: "I saw Frederick Massingbird die as I believed and I quitted him immediately. I conclude that I must have been in error in supposing he was dead." Dr.
He had been hastening to a patient when encountered by Lionel and Captain Cannonby. From that patient he had to hasten to others, in a succession of relays, as it were, all day long; sometimes his own legs in requisition, sometimes the horse's. About seven o'clock he got home to tea, at which Miss Deborah made him comfortable. Truth to say, Miss Deborah felt rather inclined to pet Jan as a son.
He was unconscious that he called her by the familiar name. He was wishing he could have shielded her from all this. Painful as the retrospect might be to her, the recital was far more painful to him. "After that, we met Captain Cannonby. I did not much like him, but he was kind to us. He got us to change to an hotel made them find room for us and then introduced me to the Eyres.
Cannonby turned to a letter rack over the mantel-piece, selected three letters from it, and handed them to Lionel. Back again all the weary way. His strong suspicions were no longer suspicions now, but confirmed certainties. The night grew dark; it was not darker than the cloud which had fallen upon his spirit. Thought was busy in his brain. How could it be otherwise?
Captain Cannonby made the third at the dinner, and he, by John Massingbird's request, took the foot of the table. It was not the being put out of his place that hurt Lionel so much, as the feeling of annoyance that John Massingbird could behave so unlike a gentleman. He felt ashamed for him. Dinner over, Lionel went up to his wife, who was keeping her room, partly from temper, partly from illness.
With smiling lips and bland brow, he had to cover a mind full of intolerable suspense, an aching heart. A minor puzzle though nothing compared to the puzzle touching the movements of Frederick Massingbird was working within him, as to the movements of Captain Cannonby. What could have become of that gentleman? Where could he be halting on his journey?
Should he get home to find the news public property? Had Captain Cannonby made it known to Sybilla? Most fervently did he hope not. Better that he, Lionel, should be by her side to help her to bear it when the dreadful news came out. Next came another thought.
He jumped off when Lionel appeared, wound his arm within his, and drew him out on the terrace. "I have come to the bottom of it, Lionel," said he, without further circumlocution. "I dropped upon the ghost just now and pinned him. It is not Fred Massingbird." Lionel paused, and then drew a deep breath; like one who has been relieved from some great care. "Cannonby said it was not!" he exclaimed.
He had a few bank-notes, only, left in his pocket-book. It never was recovered. I owe my passage-money home, and I believe Captain Cannonby supplied him with some funds which of course ought to be repaid. He took to drinking brandy," she continued. "I am much surprised to hear it." "Some fever came on. I don't know whether he caught it, or whether it came to him naturally.
Cannonby been at home he would not have gone near it; had he turned to the right hand instead of to the left, on leaving Dr. Cannonby's house, the boat would never have seen him. It was not crowded, as those steamers sometimes are crowded, suggesting visions of the bottom of the river. The day was fine; warm for September, but not too hot; the gliding down the stream delightful.
Word Of The Day