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Updated: June 11, 2025
"What, not dressed yet?" he exclaimed, in a voice of impatient rage; "hark ye, this won't do. If in two minutes you are not ready, I'll send up John Walters to help you; and he is a rough hand, I can tell you." This threat recalled Alice, to herself. "I will do as you wish," said she meekly. "Well, then, be quick," said Darvil; "they are now putting the horse to.
Now then " as Darvil spoke he seized his daughter in his arms; threw over her a shawl and a cloak that lay at hand, and was already on the threshold. "I don't half like it," said Walters, grumblingly "it been't safe." "At least it is as safe as murder!" answered Darvil, turning round, with a ghastly grin. "Make haste."
Alas! eighteen years ago, in that spot of earth, Alice Darvil had first caught the soul of music from the lips of Genius and of Love! But better as it is, less romantic, but more proper, as Hobbs' Lodge was less pretty, but more safe from the winds and rains, than Dale Cottage. Miss Bridget ventured to ask the good-humoured Lord Vargrave if he sang.
The light, which came from a dark-lanthorn, placed on the ground, revealed the forms of a peasant in a smock-frock, and two stout-built, stalwart men, armed with pistols besides the one engaged with Darvil. The whole of this scene was brought as by the trick of the stage as by a flash of lightning as by the change of a showman's phantasmagoria before the astonished eyes of the banker.
With an inviting leer, the crone pointed to a pewter measure of raw spirits that accompanied the viands, and assured her, in a cracked and maudlin voice, that "'Old Tom' was a kinder friend than any of the young fellers!" This intrusion ended, Alice was again left alone till dusk, when Darvil entered with a bundle of clothes, such as are worn by the peasants of that primitive district of England.
The man of wealth was by no means well acquainted with the nature of the beast before him. He had heard from Mrs. Darvil a mere dull, brutish villain a peasant-ruffian a blunt serf, without brains, or their substitute, effrontery.
But all came to the same result as before, save that by the descriptions he heard of the person the dress the tears, of the young female who had accompanied the men supposed to be Darvil and Walters, he was satisfied that Alice yet lived; he hoped she might yet escape and return.
Trade on your own account eh? sly! well, can't desert your poor old father. Let's have something to eat and drink." So saying, Darvil threw himself at length upon the neat, prim little chintz sofa, with the air of a man resolved to make himself perfectly at home. Alice gazed, and trembled violently, but still said nothing the power of voice had indeed left her.
Lame as his horse was, the banker instantly put his foot into the stirrup; but before he could mount, a heavy gripe was laid on his shoulder and turning round with as much fierceness as he could assume, he saw what the tone of the voice had already led him to forebode the ill-omened and cut-throat features of Luke Darvil.
And while he spoke, Darvil, who was really an undersized man, seemed to swell and dilate, till he appeared half a head taller than the shrinking banker, who was five feet eleven inches without his shoes. "E-hem!" said the rich man, clearing his throat, which seemed to him uncommonly husky; "I do not know whether I insulted your poverty, my dear Mr.
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