Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

LS <A LL LLL LLL LL A ee : ress if escaping from relentless persecutors ‘village JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 125 of a strong excitement, I could. not understand her. This much I intimated in French—hoping that she might possibly comprehend the tongue 1 thus used. Nor was I disappointed. Oh, sir, whoever you may be,” she immediately said, with the agitated accents of an almost wild entreaty, “I beseech you to have compassion upon me and take me hence !” I was confounded by the request, and knew not how to answer it. It was so dark, and the female’s countenance was so shrouded by a veil which she had thrown across rather than altogether over her head, that I could not catch the faintest glimpse of her features: yet by her voice I-judged her to be quite young. But to take up an unknown female in that strange manner—a female who might be fleeing from her friends, escaping from a lunatic asylum, or possibly from the grasp of justice itself —struck me as being no light matter: on the con- trary, ib seemed a somewhat serious one. * In the name of heaven, I conjure you not to refuse me!” she hastened to say, with a wilder an- guish of entreaty than before. “Oh, if you have a sister or any one who is very dear to you, and could wish that such a one might receive succour 3? “ What do you require me to do? who are youP whence have you escaped? who are your perse- cutors P’—such was the torrent of questions that gushed forth from my lips in the excited be- wilderment into which this strange incident threw me. : “Ob, save me! save me!” murmured the stranger: and she clung to the ledge of the chaise- door as if about to faint. I could hesitate no longer; and I quickly bade her take encouragement, for that L would give her a seat in the vehicle. She burst into tears—evidently tears of wild delight as she tremulously gave utter- ance to a few words of enthusiastic thanks; and in another moment she was seated by my side in the chaise. I felt that she was shivering with the cold, or else with the agitation of her feelings; and I put up the windows. - “Whither are you going?” she asked mein a quick excited manner. “‘ My destination for this evening,’ I replied, “was originally Magliano: but I have just been thinking that I should halt at the next town or 3) “No, no!” she interjected with an almost fren- zied yvehemence: “ you must press on to Magliano Oh, I beseech and implore that you will do 1? so! “You are afraid of being pursued and captured ?” I said inquiringly. “Yes, yes!” was the quick feverish rejoinder. “For heaven’s sake prothise that you will at least press on to Magliano—even if you cannot go farther still P” “My ultimate destination is Rome,’ I ob- served. She uttered a cry of joy, exclaiming, “And I also must proceed to Rome! Oh, you will take me thither—you will take me thither with you— promise me that you will ?” Now that I was becoming eomposed and col- lected again, I did not half like the present adven- ture. Still however there appeared to be a certain artlessness and ingenuousness in the way in which my companion put these strange entreaties, which disarmed me of that part of my suspicions which in the first instance had suggested the possibility that I should be aiding an offender to escape from the grasp of justice. “Tf you will tell me,” I said, “ a ae you have escaped and under what circumstances, I shall be enabled to judge to what extent I may assist ou.” “T have escaped from bitter, bitter persecutors !”” she replied in impassioned accents, which seemed fo implore my confidence; “and I have now no friend but you—yow whom God himself has sent to succour me! Qh, pray do not question me! and pray do not abandon me!” There was a gushing pathos in the silver tones of her voice which again moved me deeply; and I thought to myself that at all events I must suffer her to get somewhat composed before I pressed her for explanations—and that the only way to enable her to tranquillise herself was to give an affirmative answer as far as [I dared to her en. treaties. During the few moments that I was thus reflecting, I heard her literally gasping in the agony of suspense: but as for seeing her, that was out of the question,—the interior of the vehicle being in- volved in total obscurity. “Fear nothing,’ I said. “If you indeed re- quire the succour of a friend + “TI do!—heaven knows that I do!” she ex- claimed, in a tone of such earnest sincerity that I felt more assured than ever she was really the victim of some persecution and not of any fault on her own part. “Tt shall be as you wish,” I answered. “TI will at least take you to Magliano—perhaps i I was about to pledge myself to continue the journey on to Rome without stopping: but several considerations flashing to my mind in an instant, made me leave the rest of the sentence unsaid. The explanations I expected to receive when she became more composed, might be unsatisfactory : and then too, I was struck with the indiscretion bordering perhaps on indelicacy, of travelling at night-time with a female who was evidently young, and who might possibly be good-looking, but who at all events was a total stranger to me. She was not however to be put off by my half-uttered sen tences: the sense of recent persecution, or what- ever might be the motive of her flight—together with the cruel apprehension of being recaptured— and perhaps other feelings which I could not pos- sibly fathom—rendered her keenly and feverishly alive to every syllable that fell from my lips. She seemed indeed as if her position would be alto- gether desperate unless I took the fullest amount of compassion upon her and yielded to whdtsoever intercessions she might put to me. “Perhaps? perhaps ?” she eagerly exclaimed, thus echoing the word with which I had broken off. “Perhaps,” I answered, modifying the intention I previously meant to express—“ perhaps I will take you to Rome to-morrow, when you have con- vinced me that by succouring yourself I shall be doing no wrong towards others who may have a claim upon your duty and your obedience.” “No one has claims upon either there—at that place from whence I have fled!” was my com- panion’s quick response. “Oh I see that you mis- — ECORNICLOOKS (©)