The lock was evidently on the outside, and he could discover no key-hole, no possibility of operating it from within. Then, besides in all probability, a guard would be posted outside in the hall, waiting for some signal from Hobart. West glanced again at the recumbent figure, bending over to make sure of his condition, then, gripping a chair, silently crossed the room.
When the mists of party and prejudice shall have subsided, and the dispassionate verdict of posterity be given, the services of James K. Polk will be acknowledged as unsurpassed in the annals of our nation; and his noble and disinterested example of only serving one term, will be regarded by all pure-minded occupants of the Presidential Chair, as worthy of imitation.
He was gone long enough to have had a very comfortable meal, and came back all the better grown quite cool and, with good manners, like himself able to draw a chair close to them, take an interest in their employment; and regret, in a reasonable way, that he should be so late.
"I don't know that I'm particularly afraid of you, after all," declared the exponent of The Searchlight, and Banneker felt a twinge of dismay lest he might have derived, somewhence, an access of courage. "A Wild West shooting is one thing, and cold-blooded, premeditated murder is another. You'd go to the chair." "Cheerfully," assented Banneker.
Just so do we make up our minds to see things in a certain light, and see them so, in spite of fate. How pleasant it was, sitting there in the warm firelight, with Kittie opposite, in the low rocking chair, and no one else near.
The boy played it with imperturbable certainty, with his lips pressed tight in concentration, his eyes fixed on the keys, his little legs hanging down from the chair. He became more at ease as the notes rolled out; he was among friends that he knew.
"You're hurting me, Cornie. And there's the bell," she muttered, her heart going dead. He released her with the gesture of a man who hurls an enemy over a precipice. He gasped: "One of these days!" And with a livid smile he left the room as David Verne appeared in the doorway, in his wheel chair, propelled by Hamoud. But David, too, was nearly unrecognizable.
Every time I opened the door he give quite a jump in his chair, and, though he laughed it off, he's as nervous as nerves. Wants to win, I s'pose."
Almost mechanically she crossed the kitchen and approached the window, where she observed the third chair, which was very high, and when turned over became a stepladder. However, she did not sit down on it at once, for she had caught sight of a number of pictures heaped up on a corner of the table.
"By the way, I've brought in the last number of Dickens. Shall I read it to you?" Her face brightened. "Yes, do," she rejoined. "One moment, till Jane has done clearing the table. Here's your chair," and she placed the only easy one in the room for him, in the best light. These readings were one of the joys of her life. He read to her often, and read exceedingly well.