The Tenants of Malory. Volume 3. Le Fanu Joseph Sheridan

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СКАЧАТЬ up, Miss Sheckleton observed the door open, and Tom fancied perceived him in the perspective through it, for she rose suddenly, shut it, and he saw no more. Tom had not discovered in the glance of the old lady any sign of recognition, and for the sake of appearances he had buttoned his gray wrapper close across his throat and breast so as to conceal the evidences of his ball costume; his shining boots, however, were painfully conspicuous, but for that incongruity there was no help.

      And now the servant who had let them in told Tom to bring the box and bag into the servants' room, to which she led him across the gallery.

      There was a large fire, which was pleasant, a piece of matting on the floor, a few kitchen utensils ranged near the fire-place, a deal table, and some common kitchen chairs. Dismal enough would the room have looked, notwithstanding its wainscoting, had it not been for the glow diffused by the fire.

      By this fire, on a kitchen chair, and upon his own opera hat, which he wished specially to suppress, sat Tom Sedley, resolved to see his adventure one hour or so into futurity, before abandoning it, and getting home to his bed, and in the meantime doing his best to act a servant, as he fancied such a functionary would appear in his moments of ease unbending in the kitchen or the servants' hall. The maid who had received the visitors in the hall, Anne Evans by name, square, black-haired, slightly pitted with smallpox, and grave, came and sat down at the other side of the fire, and eyed Tom Sedley in silence.

      Now and then Tom felt uncomfortably about his practical joke, which was degenerating into a deception. But an hour or so longer could not matter much; and might he not make himself really useful if the services of a messenger were required?

      Anne Evans was considering him in silence, and he turned a little more toward the fire, and poked it, as he fancied a groom would poke a fire for his private comfort.

      "Are you servant to the ladies?" at last she asked.

      Tom smiled at the generality of the question, but interpreting in good faith —

      "No," said he, "I came with the carriage."

      "Servant to the gentleman?" she asked.

      "What gentleman?"

      "You know well."

      Tom had not an idea, but could not well say so. He therefore poked the fire again, and said, "Go on, miss; I'm listening."

      She did not go on, however, for some time, and then it was to say —

      "My name is Anne Evans. What may your name be?"

      "Can't tell that. I left my name at home," said Tom, mysteriously.

      "Won't tell?"

      "Can't."

      "I'm only by the month. Come in just a week to-morrow," observed Anne Evans.

      "They'll not part with you in a month, Miss Evans. No; they has some taste and feelin' among them. I wouldn't wonder if you was here for ever!" said Tom, with enthusiasm; "and what's this place, miss – this house I mean – whose house is it?"

      "Can't say, only I hear it's bought for a brewery, to be took down next year."

      "Oh, criky!" said Tom; "that's a pity."

      There was a short pause.

      "I saw you 'ide your 'at," said Anne Evans.

      "Not 'ide it," said Tom; "only sits on it – always sits on my 'at."

      Tom produced it, let it bounce up like a jack-in-a-box, and shut it down again.

      Miss Evans was neither amused nor surprised.

      "Them's hopera 'ats – first quality – they used to come in boxes on 'em, as long as from here to you, when I was at Mr. Potterton's, the hatter. Them's for gents – they air – and not for servants."

      "The gov'nor gives me his old uns," said Tom, producing the best fib he could find.

      "And them French boots," she added, meditatively.

      "Perquisite likewise," said Tom.

      Miss Anne Evans closed her eyes, and seemed disposed to take a short nap in her chair. But on a sudden she opened them to say —

      "I think you're the gentleman himself."

      "The old gentleman?" said Tom.

      "No. The young un."

      "I'm jest what I tell you, not objectin' to the compliment all the same," said Tom.

      "And a ring on your finger?"

      "A ring on my finger – yes. I wear it two days in the week. My grand-uncle's ring, who was a gentleman, being skipper of a coal brig."

      "What's the lady's name?"

      "Can't tell, Miss Evans; dussn't."

      "Fuss about nothin'!" said she, and closed her eyes again, and opened them in a minute more, to add, "but I think you're him, and that's my belief."

      "No, I ain't miss, as you'll see, by-and-by."

      "Tisn't nothin' to me, only people is so close."

      The door opened, and a tall woman in black, with a black net cap on, came quietly but quickly into the room.

      "You're the man?" said she, with an air of authority, fixing her eyes askance on Tom.

      "Yes 'm, please."

      "Well, you don't go on no account, for you'll be wanted just now."

      "No, ma'am."

      "Where's the box and bag you're in charge of?"

      "Out here," said Tom.

      "Hish, man, quiet; don't you know there's sickness? Walk easy, can't you? please, consider."

      Tom followed her almost on tip-toe to the spot where the parcels lay.

      "Gently now; into this room, please," and she led the way into that sitting-room into which Tom Sedley had looked some little time since, from the stair-head.

      The beautiful young lady was gone, but Miss Sheckleton was standing at the further door of the room with her hands clasped, and her eyes raised in prayer, and her pale cheeks wet with tears.

      Hearing the noise, she gently closed the door, and hastily drying her eyes, whispered, "Set them down there," pointing to a sofa, on which Tom placed them accordingly. "Thanks – that will do. You may go."

      When Sedley had closed the door —

      "Oh, Mrs. Graver," whispered Anne Sheckleton, clasping her wrists in her trembling fingers, "is she very ill?"

      "Well, ma'am, she is ill."

      "But, oh, my God, you don't think we are going to lose her?" she whispered wildly, with her imploring gaze in the nurse's eyes.

      "Oh, no, please God, ma'am, it will all be right. You must not fuss yourself, ma'am. You must not let her see you like this, on no account."

      "Shall СКАЧАТЬ