The Luck of Roaring Camp and Other Tales Part 15
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I understood his allusion to my feet. I glanced down and saw that in my hurry I had put on a pair of his old india-rubbers. My feet were not small or pretty, and the addition did not add to their beauty.
"Let me go, sir," I remarked quietly. "This is entirely improper; it sets a bad example for your child." And I firmly but gently extricated myself from his grasp. I approached the door. He seemed for a moment buried in deep thought.
"You say this was a negress?"
"Yes, sir."
"Humph, Number One, I suppose."
"Who is Number One, sir?"
"My _first_," he remarked, with a significant and sarcastic smile. Then, relapsing into his old manner, he threw his boots at my head, and bade me begone. I withdrew calmly.
CHAPTER V
My pupil was a bright little girl, who spoke French with a perfect accent. Her mother had been a "French ballet-dancer, which probably accounted for it. Although she was only six years old, it was easy to perceive that she had been several times in love. She once said to me,--
"Miss Mix, did you ever have the grande pa.s.sion? Did you ever feel a fluttering here?" and she placed her hand upon her small chest, and sighed quaintly; "a kind of distaste for bonbons and caramels, when the world seemed as tasteless and hollow as a broken cordial drop?"
"Then you have felt it, Nina?" I said quietly.
"Oh, dear, yes. There was b.u.t.tons,--that was our page, you know,--I loved him dearly, but papa sent him away. Then there was d.i.c.k, the groom; but he laughed at me, and I suffered misery!" and she struck a tragic French att.i.tude. "There is to be company here to-morrow,"
she added, rattling on with childish naivete, "and papa's sweetheart--Blanche Marabout--is to be here. You know they say she is to be my mamma."
What thrill was this shot through me? But I rose calmly, and administering a slight correction to the child, left the apartment.
Blunderbore House, for the next week, was the scene of gayety and merriment. That portion of the mansion closed with a grating was walled up, and the midnight shrieks no longer troubled me.
But I felt more keenly the degradation of my situation. I was obliged to help Lady Blanche at her toilet and help her to look beautiful. For what? To captivate him? Oh--no, no,--but why this sudden thrill and faintness? Did he really love her? I had seen him pinch and swear at her. But I reflected that he had thrown a candlestick at my head, and my foolish heart was rea.s.sured.
It was a night of festivity, when a sudden message obliged Mr. Rawjester to leave his guests for a few hours. "Make yourselves merry, idiots,"
he added, under his breath, as he pa.s.sed me. The door closed and he was gone.
A half-hour pa.s.sed. In the midst of the dancing a shriek was heard, and out of the swaying crowd of fainting women and excited men a wild figure strode into the room. One glance showed it to be a highwayman, heavily armed, holding a pistol in each hand.
"Let no one pa.s.s out of this room!" he said, in a voice of thunder. "The house is surrounded and you cannot escape. The first one who crosses yonder threshold will be shot like a dog. Gentlemen, I'll trouble you to approach in single file, and hand me your purses and watches."
Finding resistance useless, the order was ungraciously obeyed.
"Now, ladies, please to pa.s.s up your jewelry and trinkets."
This order was still more ungraciously complied with. As Blanche handed to the bandit captain her bracelet, she endeavored to conceal a diamond necklace, the gift of Mr. Rawjester, in her bosom. But, with a demoniac grin, the powerful brute tore it from its concealment, and administering a hearty box on the ear of the young girl, flung her aside.
It was now my turn. With a beating heart I made my way to the robber chieftain, and sank at his feet. "Oh, sir, I am nothing but a poor governess, pray let me go."
"Oho! A governess? Give me your last month's wages, then. Give me what you have stolen from your master!" and he laughed fiendishly.
I gazed at him quietly, and said, in a low voice: "I have stolen nothing from you, Mr. Rawjester!"
"Ah, discovered! Hus.h.!.+ listen, girl!" he hissed, in a fierce whisper; "utter a syllable to frustrate my plans, and you die; aid me, and"--But he was gone.
In a few moments the party, with the exception of myself, were gagged and locked in the cellar. The next moment torches were applied to the rich hangings, and the house was in flames. I felt a strong hand seize me, and bear me out in the open air and place me up on the hillside, where I could overlook the burning mansion. It was Mr. Rawjester.
"Burn!" he said, as he shook his fist at the flames. Then sinking on his knees before me, he said hurriedly,--
"Mary Jane, I love you; the obstacles to our union are or will be soon removed. In yonder mansion were confined my three crazy wives. One of them, as you know, attempted to kill me! Ha! this is vengeance! But will you be mine?"
I fell, without a word, upon his neck.
MR. MIDs.h.i.+PMAN BEEEZY
A NAVAL OFFICER
BY CAPTAIN M-RRY-T, R. N.
CHAPTER I
My father was a north-country surgeon. He had retired, a widower, from her Majesty's navy many years before, and had a small practice in his native village. When I was seven years old he employed me to carry medicines to his patients. Being of a lively disposition, I sometimes amused myself, during my daily rounds, by mixing the contents of the different phials. Although I had no reason to doubt that the general result of this practice was beneficial, yet, as the death of a consumptive curate followed the addition of a strong mercurial lotion to his expectorant, my father concluded to withdraw me from the profession and send me to school.
Grubbins, the schoolmaster, was a tyrant, and it was not long before my impetuous and self-willed nature rebelled against his authority. I soon began to form plans of revenge. In this I was a.s.sisted by Tom Snaffle,--a schoolfellow. One day Tom suggested,--
"Suppose we blow him up. I've got two pounds of powder!"
"No, that's too noisy," I replied.
Tom was silent for a minute, and again spoke:--
"You remember how you flattened out the curate, Pills? Couldn't you give Grubbins something--something to make him leathery sick--eh?" A flash of inspiration crossed my mind. I went to the shop of the village apothecary. He knew me; I had often purchased vitriol, which I poured into Grubbins's inkstand to corrode his pens and hum up his coat-tail, on which he was in the habit of wiping them. I boldly asked for an ounce of chloroform. The young apothecary winked and handed me the bottle.
It was Grubbins's custom to throw his handkerchief over his head, recline in his chair, and take a short nap during recess. Watching my opportunity, as he dozed, I managed to slip his handkerchief from his face and subst.i.tute my own, moistened with chloroform. In a few minutes he was insensible. Tom and I then quickly shaved his head, beard, and eyebrows, blackened his face with a mixture of vitriol and burnt cork, and fled. There was a row and scandal the next day. My father always excused me by a.s.serting that Grubbins had got drunk,--but somehow found it convenient to procure me an appointment in her Majesty's navy at an early day.
CHAPTER II
An official letter, with the Admiralty seal, informed me that I was expected to join H. M. s.h.i.+p Belcher, Captain Boltrope, at Portsmouth, without delay. In a few days I presented myself to a tall, stern-visaged man, who was slowly pacing the leeward side of the quarter-deck. As I touched my hat he eyed me sternly:--
The Luck of Roaring Camp and Other Tales Part 15
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