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Updated: May 16, 2025
Drakelow is going to Constantinople; but he shall first initiate his successor in the business of his office a routine, which little minds would make great minds believe is a mystery above ordinary comprehension.
His lordship, as soon as his secretary had left the room, turned to Cunningham, and said, "You will not mention anything concerning M. de Tourville's intercepted papers to Mr. Drakelow, or to any other person. Affairs call me to town immediately: to-morrow morning at six, I set off. You will, if you please, sir, be ready to accompany me.
Miss Drakelow Miss Chatterton, give us some more music, I beseech you; for I like music better in a morning than at night the mornings, when one can't go out, are so confoundedly long and heavy." The young ladies played, and Miss Hauton seated herself apart from the group of musicians, upon a bergere, leaning on her hand, in a melancholy attitude.
They are neat and dry, and the occupants are loud in praise of them, as warm in winter and cool in summer. They are in two stages. At Drakelow also there are several, also occupied, somewhat disfigured by hideous chimneys recently erected in yellow and red bricks. One chimney is peculiarly quaint as being twisted, like a writhing worm, to accommodate itself to the shape of the overhanging rock.
Cunningham Falconer, to your office. Endeavour to prepare him to supply your place with me whenever it may be proper for his majesty's service, and for your interest, to send you to Constantinople, or elsewhere." Mr. Drakelow, though infinitely surprised and displeased, bowed all submission. Nothing else he knew was to be done with Lord Oldborough.
Miss Chatterton, Miss Drakelow, and some officers of their suite came up at this instant; a deputation, they said, to bring Miss Hauton back, to favour them with another song, as she must now have recovered her voice. "No no excuse me," said she, smiling languidly; "I beg not to be pressed any more. I am really not well I absolutely cannot sing any more this morning.
Drakelow, looked over the letters, wrote with a pencil, and with great despatch, a few words on the back of each met Mr. Drakelow as he entered the room put the unfolded letters all together into his hands "The answers on the back to be made out in form ready for signature at six to-morrow." "Yes, my lord. May I ask " "Ask nothing, sir, if you please I am busy you have your directions." Mr.
Come, you're keeping Miss Drakelow." "Go on, Miss Drakelow, if you please, without me." "Impossible. Come, come, Maria, what the deuce are you at?" Miss Hauton, afraid to refuse her brother, afraid to provoke the comments of the company, began to sing, or rather to attempt to sing her voice faltered; she cleared her throat, and began again worse still, she was out of tune: she affected to laugh.
Drakelow, whom he should be sorry to injure or displace. "Never mind that now time enough to think of Drakelow," said Lord Oldborough, walking up and down the room then stopping short, "I must see your son, sir." "I will bring him here to-morrow, if your lordship pleases." "As soon as possible!
Drakelow bowed submissive, and made his exit with great celerity. "Now to our business, my dear sir," said his lordship, seating himself at the table with Mr. Falconer, who immediately produced M. de Tourville's papers.
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