Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 357: what you’re looking at

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

a —————E—————— EE a_—_———— 344 The reader will not consider me weak if I con- fess that I again wept bitterly: but those tears relieved me somewhat; and I endeavoured to fix my looks on the brighter side of the picture. Had I not friends: who, on my sudden disappearance from the world, would make inquiries concerning me ?—would not the Count of Livorno, for in- stance, be in time rendered uneasy on my behalf, if a prolonged silence were maintained P—would not the Count of Monte d’Oro think of me?— would not Sir Matthew Heseltine himself seek to learn my fateP—and might I not even expect something favourable at the hands of the kind- hearted Saltcoats? Yes, yes—it was impossible I could be left to linger out a wretched existence there! My captivity must assuredly he brief! But then, on the other hand, came the sickening thought that all those whom I have just mentioned might fancy that for reasons of my own I had purposely broken off all communication with them; and they would trouble themselves not with the affairs of one who to all appearances had ceased to remember former friendships. It was with a heavy heart that night I sought my couch: but I soon slept through sheer ex- haustion of mind and body. When I awoke in the morning, I could scarcely believe that every- thing which first struck my thoughts was other- wise than a dream. But, alas! I beheld bars at the window; and, Oh! the conviction smote me that it was no dream. Looking around the room, I perceived all the luggage which I had left at the hotel; and it must therefore have been placed in my chamber while I slept. I rose, and opened my boxes. Everything was safe, even to my papers and letter of credit: nothing had been ab- stracted; and my hotel bill, duly receipted, lay on the top of my clothes just within one of the trunks. I performed my toilet; and then, trying the door of the chamber, found that it was unlocked. I felt the want of fresh air; and I was moreover anxious to ascertain to what extent my range of freedom reached. I accordingly issued from the room. In an adjacent one, the door of which stood wide open, I beheld the man Tom and an- other individual (also a keeper, as I subsequently learnt) seated together at a table, partaking of their breakfast. They respectfully bade me “ Good morning :”—and I descended the stairs without in- terruption, On reaching the hall, I found the front door standing open: one of the porters was seated in his large leathern chair; and I passed out of the hall, still without the slightest hin- drance. I have already said that the mansion was an extensive one; and it stood in the midst of about an acre and a half of ground, laid out in lawns and gardens. But on the inner side of the four walls which completely enclosed the place, there was a line of chevaus-de-frise, or long iron spikes fixed upon revolving bars; so that it was impossible to climb the wall. At the entrance-gate there was a porter’s lodge; and the gates themselves were kept locked. In addition to these precautions, there were three or four gardeners so interspersed about the grounds that every part of the premises could be thus watched by them; and I may farther ob- serve that during those hours when the inmates of the asylum were principally accustomed to take exercise in the garden, three or four keepers JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT, were roaming about likewise. In respect to the chevaux-de frise, they were not visible to passers- by outside the walls: the projecting irons which supported them, were about a foot and a half from the top—and, as I have already said, on the inner side. In each angle of the walls there were quan- tities of iron spikes, four feet in length, which came bristling down in a slanting direction from the masonry in which they were set; and these were in addition to the chevaux-de-frise. It was about eight o’clock in the morning when — I thus came out to walk in the grounds; and the gardeners (who were also keepers) were already at their work, in which they seemed so busied as to have no thought for anything else. Besides these gardeners I at first beheld no one: but at the ex- piration of a few minutes I perceived an old gen- tleman emerge from a sort of shrubbery. He was dressed in black; and his toilet indicated the ut- most neatness and precision. I wondered for a moment whether he were one of the unfortunate inmates of the place—or whether he were some official—or again whether he might not be a friend of Mr. Granby. He had a most respectable as well as venerable appearance; and there was something exceedingly kind and benevolent in his looks. He courteously bade me “Good morn- ing ;” and I returned the salutation. I surveyed him steadfastly in the hope of ascertaining which of my conjectures was the right one: but I quickly came to the conclusion that at all events he could not be one of the deranged inmates of the place, . for his full clear blue eyes were expressive of com- pletest lucidity. “Enjoying the morning air, sir, before break- fast ?” said the old gentleman, now joining me in my walk. “T am certainly taking the air,” I answered somewhat bitterly: “but as for enjoying it,—that, alas! is impossible when it is the air of captivity which I breathe !” “What?” ejaculated my new acquaintance, now stopping short and gazing upon me with astonish- ment depicted upon his countenance. “You do not mean me to understand that you are impri- soned here P” “ Alas, indeed I do!” was my mournful response. “ And yet re “ Why, you are no more mad than I am!” cried the old gentleman, with an indignation which sud- denly inspired me with hope. “This shall be seen into at once! If my friend Granby has been im- posed upon e “He has, my dear sir—he has, I can assure you!” I exclaimed. “My case isa most cruel one—Oh, so cruel!” “ How often are these mistakes to occur !—these villanies to be perpetrated!’ exclaimed my new friend. “But heaven be thanked! I have fre- quently proved the means of liberating those who were unjustly confined within these walls.” “Oh, my dear sir!” I cried, my heart now thrilling with the most fervid hope; “ whoever you are, if you would assist me-———” “That I will assuredly do, my poor young man,” interrupted the old gentleman, “if I -find your statement correct. Granby is an intimate friend of mine; and I am onayvisit to him. He isa well-meaning, kind-hearted man—but perhaps not so well fitted for his avocation as he might be. OOO) SS (E(0)