Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 296: what you’re looking at

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

a es we me ee ee - — - same A Ly AR SR A ne es ene JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 283 Having thus spoken, Mr. Games hurried on his way: for he was evidently on a visit to the white cottage. I continued my own course towards Heather Place, somewhat bewildered by two or three little incidents which had just occurred, and which would persist in hovering in my mind, not- withstanding that I endeavoured to persuade my- self they were mere trivialities and could no doubt be easily explained. But that readiness with which Mrs. Foley had testified to the surgeon’s skill, as if he had given some immediate and striking proof thereof—the confusion in her looks which followed that ejaculatory encomium—then the strange man- ner in which Games himself had regarded me when I inquired what Mr. Foley’s malady was— his hesitation ere he answered—and the sort of evasiveness with which he first spoke—together with the vague and general nature of the explana- tion which he immediately afterwards gave, and which really had the air of being the result of some second thought,—all these things, when grouping themselves together, struck me as somewhat strange. Yet what veritable singularity could there possibly be in them? Whatever the nature of an illness, so dangerous as that, might be,—there could assur- edly exist no harm in describing it frankly. At least methoughtso. However, amidst all my won- derings and my bewildering reflections, there was a sentiment of genuine sympathy on behalf of that wife in respect to whose love for her husband there could be no possible doubt. bad ee CHAPTER LIiit HEATHER PLACE, In the course of conversation with the domestics in the kitchen, I inquired whether there was any truth in the rumours which had reached my ears, to the effect that the neighbourhood of Bagshot was troubled with a highwayman, who wore a black mask, and who for the last two or three years had been carrying on his depredations ? “There can be no doubt of it,” answered the cook. “Once or twice travellers have stopped at Heather Place, tearing madly at the gate-bell, and begging for shelter, as they had been robbed by a highwayman and were afraid to proceed.” “ But when once the mischief was done,” I ob- served, “it was somewhat too late to ask for an asylum for the night.” “Ah! but it unsettles one’s nerves s0,” ex- claimed the cook: “and people who get robbed on the heath, get their heads filled with all sorts of fancies, and don’t like to continue their way in the night-time.” “And master himself,’ observed old Jacob, “says that one evening, as he was coming home late in the phaeton, a fellow on horseback dashed up to him, and seemed as if he meant to do him a mischief: but some how or another he thought better of it, and galloped away like the wind.” “And did Mr. Shackleford say that the horse- man wore a black mask ?” I inquired. “He thought so, but wasn’t quite sure,” re- joined old Jacob. “The night was very dark, and master only just had time to catch a single glimpse of the fellow before he was off again like a shot. It was strange ; because how a highwayman could by a single look at a gentleman judge whether he was worth robbing or not, beats my power of com- prehension.” “Don’t .you recollect, Jacob,” observed the housemaid, “that when master came home and told us the story, he said that the moment he heard the horse galloping after him, he took out his pistol ?” “ Ah, to be sure!” replied the old groom; “ and therefore I suppose the robber saw it in an instant : for these highwaymen, you know, have eyes like cats, and can see in the dark.” “And then too,” suggested the cook, “ master, being so tall, and sitting so upright in the phae- ton—and wrapped up in his cloak too, which made him look stouter than he really is—the robber might have fancied him to be a strong, powerful man; and what with that idea, and a glimpse at the pistol, it wasn’t so very wonderful that he should sheer off.” “Then it is positively true,” I observed, “that. there is a highwayman somewhere in these parts —and that it was no old woman’s tale I heard re- peated by the waiter at the Bagshot inn?” “Oh, it’s quite certain!” cried the cook. “There was Sir Ralph Fitzroy—the rich Baronet, who lives about four miles from here—he was riding home late one evening, and by some acci- dent or another he had no groom with him. Well, all of a sudden he was stopped in the middle of the heath by a man on horseback . “And the man had his mask on,’ interjected the housemaid. “Ah, to be sure!” continued the cook. “ Well, poor old Sir Ralph had not the slightest chance with the fellow: so he was robbed of a matter of three hundred pounds he happened to have about him—for he had been to receive money. It was all cone in the twinkling of an eye; and Sir Ralph really thought it was a dream.” “Aye, aye—and soit might have been in his case,” observed Jacob, nodding his head as know- ingly as he could. “Sir Ralph, old as he is, is very gay im some respects; and he fools away a deal ot money—as some of the farmers’ daughters round about have good reason to know, to their own profit.” “It is true,” said the housemaid, “that mali- cious people did whisper at the time that Sir Ralph Fitzroy had never been robbed at all, and that he only invented it as an excuse to account for the disappearance of the money, and to save himself from a blowing-up on the part of his wife.” “Well, if you come to that,” said the cook, “ missus, you remember, laughed and joked master about his own adventure, and insisted that he had either been frightened by a shadow—or else that he had concocted the story just to pass him- self off as a very brave man whose appearance scared away a robber all in a moment.” “No, no—I don’t think Mr. Shackleford would invent any such falsehood,” said the housemaid : “he is too grave for that. Besides, ever since the winter hefore last, when the thing happened, he has taken very good care not to be out alone after dusk. And if one’ person has been stopped on the heath, why not another? There was one of the Professors of the College, was robbed ElO@QO) Ss) (CO) im