Cruel As The Grave Part 58

"I do trust in the Lord, and I know all will be well; but oh! I wish it were to-morrow that s.h.i.+p is to sail?" answered Sybil.

"It will sail very soon, dear. And now we had better go to rest, and try to get some sleep. In my character of market farmer, I have to be up very early in the morning to attend to my business, you know," said Lyon with a smile.

Sybil acquiesced, and the fugitive couple retired for the night.

Bodily fatigue so much overcame mental anxiety, that they slept profoundly, and continued to sleep until near daylight, when they were both aroused by a loud knocking at the door.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, who is that?" gasped Sybil, starting up in affright, for every knock now, scared her with the thought of sheriff's officers armed with a warrant for her arrest, and excited a whole train of prospective horrors.

"Hush, darling, hush; it is only one of the men about the place waking me up, according to orders, to be in time for the market. We must keep up our a.s.sumed characters, my dear Sybil," said Mr. Berners, as the knocking was repeated, accompanied by the calls of,

"Farmer! farmer!"

"Aye, aye! I hear you. You needn't batter down the doors. I'm a-going to get up, though it's very early, and I an't as young as I used to be twenty years ago, nyther," grumbled the "farmer," as with many a grunt and sigh, as of an old and weary man, he got up and began to dress himself.

"Sybil," he whispered to his wife before leaving the room, "I shall have to take my breakfast at a stall in the market-house, and I shall not be back until the market is out, which will be about twelve o'clock. You can have your breakfast brought up here. And mind, my darling, don't forget to put on your wig, and keep up your character."

"I shall be very careful, dear Lyon," she answered, as he kissed and left her.

Lyon Berners went down stairs, where he found the landlord, who was an "early bird," waiting for him.

"Morning, farmer. What is it that you've brought to market, anyways?"

he said, greeting his guest.

"Mostly garden truck," answered Lyon.

"No poultry, eggs, nor b.u.t.ter?"

"No."

"'Cause, if you had, I might deal with you myself."

"Well, you see, landlord, them kind of produce is ill convenient to bring a long ways in a wagon. And I came from a good ways down the country," explained Lyon, as he took his long leathern whip from the corner where he had left it, and went out to look after his team.

He found it all right, and he mounted the seat and drove to the market s.p.a.ce, and took a stand, and began to offer his produce as zealously as any farmer on the ground--taking care, in the mean time, to wear his spectacles and broad-brimmed hat, and to keep up his character in voice and manner; and, as the morning advanced, he began to drive a brisk business.

Meantime Sybil, left alone in her poor room at the little inn, arose and locked the door after Lyon, to prevent intrusion before she should effect her disguise, and when she had thus insured her privacy, she began to dress.

As soon as she had transformed herself, she opened the door and called for Rachel.

The landlord's daughter entered, giving her guest good-morning, and kindly inquiring how she had slept.

"I slept like a top! But I'm not well this morning neither. So I'd just like to have my victuals sent up here," answered Sybil.

"Very well; what would you like?"

"Fried fish, and pork-steaks, and bri'led chickings, and grilled bacon, and--let me see! Have you any oysters?"

"Yes, very fine ones."

"Well, then, I'll take some stewed oysters too, and some poached eggs, and preserved quinces, and fried potatoes, and corn pone, and hot rolls, and buckwheat cakes, and cold bread and b.u.t.ter, and some coffee, and b.u.t.termilk and sweet milk. And that's all, I believe; for, you see, I an't well, and I haven't come to my stomach yet; but if I can think of anything else, I will let you know.

"Is your father going to eat his breakfast with you?"

"Who? pappy? No; he's gone to market, and will get his victuals at the eating stall. Wouldn't it be good fun to keep a eating stall in a market?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, never mind whether you do, or not. Hurry up with my victuals."

"Yes; but I'm afraid we haven't got all the things you want; but I will bring you up what we have," said the girl, who had opened her eyes widely at the bill of fare ordered by her sickly guest.

"Well, go do it then, and don't stop to talk," said Sybil, shortly.

Rachel went out, and in due time returned with a waiter containing Sybil's breakfast.

"Why, there an't half--no, not a quarter of the things I told you to fetch me," said Sybil, turning up her nose at the waiter that Rachel placed upon the table.

"I have brought you some of everything that we have cooked. I should be glad if I could bring you all you wish," replied Rachel.

"Then I s'pose I must be half-starved in this poor place. And me so weakly, too! I'll tell pappy as soon as ever he comes. I want to go home--I do. We've got as much as ever we can eat at home," grumbled Sybil, doing her best to act her part, and perhaps overdoing it.

But Rachel was not suspicious. She again apologized for not being able to fill her guest's order in its utmost extent, and she remained in the room and waited on Sybil until the breakfast was finished, and then she took away the service, wondering how little her guest had eaten, after having ordered such a vast amount of food.

Again Rachel came back to the room, and made everything tidy in each chamber, and then finally left her guest alone.

Sybil walked about and took up and put down every small object that lay about her humble apartments, and then looked out of each window upon the narrow crowded and noisy street below; and finally, she took the volume of "Celebrated Criminal Trials" that had a terrible attraction for her, in her present circ.u.mstances, and she sat down and read until her husband's return.

Lyon Berners drove his empty wagon into the stable yard, at noon. He had sold out all his produce, and pretended to be in great glee at his success. The landlord congratulated him, and some chance loungers in the bar-room suggested that, under such circ.u.mstances, it would be the right thing for him to treat the company. Lyon thought so too; and in his character of farmer, he ordered pipes and gla.s.ses all around. And then he made his escape, and went up stairs to see Sybil.

"Still moping over that depressing book. Put it away, Sybil, and get on your bonnet, and throw a thick veil over it, and come out with me for a walk; we have to buy something for our voyage, you know," said Lyon, cheerfully.

Sybil with a sigh given to her fears, did as he requested her to do; and the two went down stairs together.

"Going out for a walk, I reckon, farmer?" inquired the landlord, who stood at the bar-room door with a pipe in his mouth.

"Aye, aye. You know these girls--when they find out that their pappies have made a little bit of money, there is no peace till it's spent. My girl is taking me out shopping, to buy gimcracks and things! I'll be glad when I get her home again," grumbled Lyon.

"Well, well, she's your onliest one, and you mustn't be hard on her. My Rachel gets all she wants, and deserves it too. Dinner at two o'clock, sharp, farmer."

"Aye, aye! I know. Men o' my age never forget their dinners," said Lyon, as he drew Sybil's arm within his own and led her out into the streets.

They went only into the back streets, and the poor shops, and they bought only what was strictly necessary for their voyage; and having concluded their purchases, they returned to the inn in time for dinner.

Sybil was very much depressed. She could not rally from the effect the reading of that book had had upon her mind. She frequently repeated her fervent aspiration:

"Oh! that the s.h.i.+p would sail to-day!"