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Updated: April 30, 2025
Then it was lowered into the grave. There was something in this which was so horrible to Hawbury that an involuntary shudder passed through every nerve, and all the terror of the grave and the bitterness of death in that one moment seemed to descend upon him. He had not thought of this, and consequently was not prepared for it.
"Well, perhaps so; but I wouldn't trust one of them. I don't believe there's an honest vetturino in all Italy." Lady Dalrymple elevated her eyebrows, and threw at Hawbury a glance of despair. "He speaks English, too," said Lady Dalrymple. "So do some of the worst rascals in the country," said the Baron. "Oh, I don't think he can be a very bad rascal. We had better question him, at any rate.
"Yes; that is, you know, she mentioned the fact that the lady was a niece of Sir Gilbert Biggs." "What!" cried Dacres, with a start. "A niece of Sir Gilbert Biggs," repeated Hawbury. "A niece of Sir Gilbert Biggs?" said Dacres, slowly. "Good Lord!" "Yes; and what of that?" "Very much. Don't you know that Minnie Fay is a niece of Sir Gilbert Biggs?" "By Jove! So she is.
Both Hawbury and the Baron felt humiliated, especially the latter; and Girasole certainly had the best of it on that occasion, whatever his lot had been at other times. The Count withdrew. The Baron followed, in company with Hawbury. He was deeply dejected. First of all, he had hoped to see Minnie. Then he hoped to frighten the party back. As to the brigands, he was in most serious earnest.
Often she thought of quitting Naples and returning to England. Yet, after all, she found a strange comfort in being there. She was near him. She heard his voice every day, and saw his face. That was something. And it was better than absence. Minnie used always to come to her and pour forth long accounts of Lord Hawbury how he looked, what he said, what he did, and what he proposed to do.
"And I think I've persuaded her to save Minnie from being too conspicuous." Mrs. Willoughby gave Hawbury a look of astonishment and reproach. "You!" she cried; "and Ethel!" "Why, I'm sure, we're the very ones you might expect it from. Think how infernally we've been humbugged by fate." "Fate!" said Mrs. Willoughby. "It was all your own fault. She was chosen for you." "Chosen for me?
"By Jove!" cried Hawbury. "I saw you were coming to that." "Well, you know, the whole thing was so sudden, so unexpected, and so perfectly overwhelming, that I stood transfixed. I said nothing. I believe I bowed, and then somehow or other, I really don't know how, I got away, and, mounting my horse, rode off like a madman. Then I came home, and here you see me."
The discovery would surely be made in the morning that Hawbury had been substituted for the robber; he would be found and punished, and the priest would be involved in his fate. His only care now was for Ethel; and he turned his thoughts toward the formation of some plan by which he might obtain mercy for her.
As Dacres growled out this Hawbury elevated his eyebrows, and stroked his long, pendent whiskers lazily with his left hand, while with his right he drummed on the table near him. "Well," resumed Dacres, "the child-angel ran up for some distance, leaving Ethel behind. Ethel called after her for some time, and then began to follow her up.
The room was perfectly bare of furniture, nothing being in it but the straw and the dirty rugs. Hawbury could not approach to the windows, for he was bound in a way which prevented that. In fact, he could not move in any direction, for his arms and legs were fastened in such a way that he could scarcely raise himself from where he was sitting.
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