The Boy Soldier; Or, Garibaldi's Young Captain — page 58: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

52 THE BOY SOLDIER; OR, GARIBALDI’S YOUNG CAPTAIN. Team.” “ Then all is well ; the children have escaped.” “Yes ; and he knocked me down for it.” “ That is of no consequence,” “Isn’t it, though? I had a good mind to knock him down. as dead as a herring with the poker.” ‘And if you had all our plans would have been useless.” ‘“What do you propose? Let us fly from this place at once, The Hall is haunted.” The mistress of Bromley Hall curled her lip dis- dainfully as she thought, “What a craven-hearted curI have enlisted in my cause, I begin to hate and loathe him! Would that Caspar had listened to my whispered proposals instead of this red-headed ass ; but he would not— he spurned me. What woman can forgive a man for that ?” she thought. “He shall live to repent his high-born pride. I'll teach him that he cannot thwart me, and let him see how much he has lost in spurning the desires of his master’s wife, the idiot! Yet how different is Caspar to this white- livered fool! He is my tool nevertheless ; I will use him as such, and then when my own purposes are secured, I'll cast him from me. Oh, Caspar, Caspar,” sighed the wicked wife to herself, “ why did you ever darken the doors of Bromley Hall? Why did I ever see you, that my heart and soul and mind should thus be racked and torn both day and night? How handsome, noble and brave he is compared to this coward at my feet; but he spurned me, he loathes me, I will be revenged !” As thus she thought the heart of the mistress of Bromley Hall heaved with mingled feelings of guilty passion and hopes of revenge. ‘“What do you wish, mistress?” asked Shanks, trembling, as he stood beside her in the darkness. “Why do we meet here again and run the risk of exposure ?” ‘Trembling fool!” thought madam, “He has the heart of a dog.” And then, half-aloud, she said, ‘‘ Your master has determined to dismiss you, Shanks,” “Me? Why?” he said, Caspar.” “It remains with me which of the two shall On! ‘Then, of course, seeing how much I have done for you, and how intimate we are, Z will be the one to stay.” “Would you have Caspar expose us?” ‘* He knows nothing,” “That is doubtful. Have you not noticed his proud curling lip of late? I have, and could have knocked him down times and times again, only— only you were not man enough, Shanks, I could love any one who did me that service,” said the mistress, who, as she looked back at the many secret advances she had made to the young and good-looking Caspar, and remembered his proud scorn, her heart and soul were heated to a burning pitch of revenge. “Would you have Caspar leave, then, to triumph over us, Shanks?” ‘“No, how can he? Master will not give him a character ; he cannot get another situation without one, and must go begging from door to door, or starve.” ‘But he would still have a tongue in his head, and might speak aloud his suspicions, What is to prevent him ?” ‘What, then, do you propose ?” “Could you not slip something into his trunks before he takes them away ?” * Money ?” “Tt was to be Mr. a ra a ae ce ee “ Anything would do; we could miss it, have | him arrested, and his trunks searched; you could swear anything against him,” ‘c Me 12 ‘ a a “Yes, you ; are you afraid to tell a lie?” jeered the mistress of Bromley Hall, scornfully. ; “No; but I shouldn’t like to meet his gaze when in the dock.” “Why not?” ‘‘ Well, I don’t know, but there is something about his proud looks I could not withstand under such circumstances,” ‘Then leave it to me, idiot ; what a man fears to do a woman will ; aye, and with a smile, too.” She ; ; added, ‘“ He does not sleep in the hall to-night ?” ce No,” “Then go your way; leave the matter to me, ‘s See me early in the morning.” Shanks skulked away from the library, and a cold sweat was on his brow. He was a mean-spirited coward. | Every one in the Hall knew that he bitterly hated young Caspar the tutor—yes, hated him with the bitterness of gall. He was a bright scholar, and the only son of a very poor gentleman, long dead, and it was whispered that young Caspar was the sole hope and support of his widowed mother. - - Shanks dared not pick any quarrel with Caspar, for fear of instant punishment on the spot, and this only increased his hatred all the more. : Tt was because of Shanks’s intense hatred that the mistress of Bromley Hall had picked him out asthe instrument of her revenge. ‘‘ What will she want me to do next ?” he thought, as he stealthily crept to his own chamber. “I tremble before that woman ; she has murder in her eyes at times. How the devil we have managed to hoodwink her husband go long is a puzzle to me. She must be a witch or a she-devil; her passions are never satisfied. If old Jonathan knew all he would murder us both, I know.” Like a ghost or some evil spirit, the mistress went to her own room, and there, in the silence of the night, looked over her drawers. She took from thence a jewel case, and wrapped several valuable diamonds in small pieces of paper. With a bunch of small keys in her hand anda — lamp, she stole away to Mr, Caspar’s room. No one was there. She looked about with a pale face and quiver- ing lips, ‘Fanny loves him, and has long done so,” she thought. ‘Sophia had a sneaking liking for him also. But what do J care for all that? J love him also |’ said Madame, with a fiery eye. ‘They are not my daughters—they are the children of Jonathan’s first wife. I am not within twenty years as old as he is. Why did I marry him? Aye, why I cannot tell. I was a poor French teacher, and he a rich, doting old fool. He was of high position in the world; I was not. I was de- termined to rise somehow or other, and so became mistress of Bromley Hall; but what a curse it is “upon me |! I loathe my husband’s very name, and would laugh with delight to see him lying dead at my feet! Oh! the curse of pride! Oh! the in- tolerable weight of riches where there is no love ! Why did I not marry some one young, handsome, and brave? I had the chance once; aye, a noble young soldier that adored me! But he lies buried in the Crimea, No one that I have ever seen, though, ever inflamed my heart as Caspar does, But he rejects me! he hates me! » What care I for honour, GEomicboo S a) a i coimM