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Updated: June 26, 2025
He did not; and it is my belief that, throughout the events which I have recorded, he retained, and that he still retains, the conviction that Miss Liston's interest in him was purely literary and artistic, and that she devoted herself to his society simply because he offered an interesting problem and an inspiring theme.
"Master, and 'Squire Thornton are not returned from Newmarket, and we cannot let any one in till they come home," replied the voice, in a tone somewhat mollified by my rational remonstrance; and while I was deliberating what rejoinder to make, a rough, red head, like Liston's, in a farce, poked itself cautiously out under cover of the blunderbuss, and seemed to reconnoitre my horse and myself.
Eve stood there, looking as modest and beautiful and elegant as ever which is saying a good deal, for, in deference to Mrs Liston's prejudices, she had exchanged her old graceful tunic reaching to a little below the knee, and her pretty bead-wrought leggings, and other picturesque accompaniments of Indian life, for the long dress of civilisation. "Prayers," said Eve.
While they stood looking at one another, and at Beeny Liston's door, a voice that seemed incredibly rough, loud and harsh, jarred upon them; it was Sandy Liston, who came in from Leith, shouting: "Fifty pounds for salvage, lasses! is na thaat better than staying cooard-like aside the women?" "Whisht! whisht!" cried Christie.
No member of the French theatre was ever at once a more finished and a more delightfully amusing and natural actor. Liston's son went into the army when he grew up, and I lost sight of him. With the Rev.
He rose, and was instantly seized by two of the company, from whom he burst furiously, after a struggle, and the next moment was heard to fall clean from the top to the bottom of the stairs. Flucker and Jean ran out; the rest appealed against the interruption. Christie. "Hech! he's killed. Sandy Liston's brake his neck."
Accordingly, next morning, after breakfast Lumley and I slung our snow-shoes over our shoulders on the barrels of our guns, for the lake was as hard as a sheet of white marble, and started off to pay a visit to the spot indicated, in what I may style poor Liston's will.
Then she said in a dreamy tone, "I think I shall stick to my old idea in the book." As she spoke Chillington came out. Even in the dim light I saw a frown on his face. "I say, Wynne," said he, "where's Miss Myles?" "She's gone to bed," I answered. "She told me to wish you good-night for her, Miss Liston. No message for you, Chillington." Miss Liston's eyes were on him.
It was beyond question that Chillington enjoyed Miss Liston's society; the interest she showed in him was incense to his nostrils. I used to overhear fragments of his ideas about himself which he was revealing in answer to her tactful inquiries.
I quite forgot; this rather uncommon rig for an English gentleman must somewhat have puzzled you," he answered, laughing. "Well, then, you remember Blount, at old Liston's. I am the same, I can assure you, Seaworth; rather transmogrified as to my outward man, I own."
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