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Updated: June 13, 2025
A study to perplex the ordinary thinker, and task to the utmost the analysis of more profound reflection. William Gawtrey had possessed no common talents; he had discovered that his life had been one mistake; Lord Lilburne's intellect was far keener than Gawtrey's, and he had never made, and if he had lived to the age of Old Parr, never would have made a similar discovery.
Gregg old fellow with one eye, you recollect shake him by the hand just so you catch the trick practise it again. No, the forefinger thus, that's right. Say 'blater, no more 'blater; stay, I will write it down for you; and then ask for William Gawtrey's direction.
I have said that Gawtrey's tale made a deep impression on Philip; that impression was increased by subsequent conversations, more frank even than their talk had hitherto been. There was certainly about this man a fatal charm which concealed his vices.
"If anything happen to me, Philip," he said, abruptly, "perhaps he may yet be a father to poor Fanny; and if he takes to her, she will repay him for whatever pain I may, perhaps, have cost him. Stop! now I think of it, I will write down his address for you never forget it there! It is time to go to bed." Gawtrey's tale made a deep impression on Philip.
Philip seized hold of Gawtrey's hand, grasped it warmly, and the good- for-nothing continued "Do you know, that I loved that girl as well as I had ever loved the mother, though in another way; she was what I fancied the mother to be; still more fair, more graceful, more winning, with a heart as full of love as her mother's had been of vanity. I loved that child as if she had been my own daughter.
Yet so great was Gawtrey's vigour of health, that, after draining wine and spirits enough to have despatched a company of fox- hunters, and after betraying, sometimes in uproarious glee, sometimes in maudlin self-bewailings, that he himself was not quite invulnerable to the thyrsus of the god, he would on any call on his energies, or especially before departing on those mysterious expeditions which kept him from home half, and sometimes all, the night plunge his head into cold water drink as much of the lymph as a groom would have shuddered to bestow on a horse close his eyes in a doze for half an hour, and wake, cool, sober, and collected, as if he had lived according to the precepts of Socrates or Cornaro!
They returned to France through Switzerland a country too poor for gamesters; and ever since the interview with Lilburne, a great change had come over Gawtrey's gay spirit: he grew moody and thoughtful, he took no pains to replenish the common stock, he talked much and seriously to his young friend of poor Fanny, and owned that he yearned to see her again.
Quick, divide the spoils! Sauve qui peat!" Then Morton heard where he sat, his hands still clasped before his face, a confused hubbub of voices, the jingle of money, the scrambling of feet, the creaking of doors. All was silent! A strong grasp drew his hands from his eyes. "Your first scene of life against life," said Gawtrey's voice, which seemed fearfully changed to the ear that beard it.
By his bedside sat Liancourt, who, long alarmed at his disappearance, had at last contrived, with the help of Mr. Barlow, to trace him to Gawtrey's house, and had for several days taken share in the vigils of poor Fanny. While he was yet explaining all this to Philip, and congratulating him on his evident recovery, the physician entered to confirm the congratulation.
Gawtrey began again: "You have had a bad accident, seemingly, Monsieur Giraumont. How did you lose your eye?" "In a scuffle with the gens d' armes the night Bouchard was taken and I escaped. Such misfortunes are on the cards." "C'est juste: buvez, donc, Monsieur Giraumont!" Again there was a pause, and again Gawtrey's deep voice was heard. "You wear a wig, I think, Monsieur Giraumont?
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