The Soldier's Wife — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

10 embrace, At that instant an ejaculation of mingled astonishment and rage fell upon their ears: and starting asunder, they stood in a kind of guilty confusion in the presence of the indi- vidual who had just emerged from the depths of the wood, This was Mr. Davis, Lucy’s fa- ther. “Vile deceitful girl !” he exclaimed : “is it for| this that those frequent evening walks of your's have been taken? But you, villain,” he added, now turning his wrathfal looks upon Lonsdale, “how dare you thus seek to rob me of my daugh- ter ? “Mr. Davis,” was the immediate answer given by Frederick, who quickly recovered his pres: ence of mind, “it is an honest love [ bear your daughter—a love which, mutually felt, has ri- pened from our childhood’s yvears——” “No more!” ejaculated the bailiff, the naturally harsh tones of his voice sounding more. sternly harsh than ever: “not another word upon the subject! Come hither, girl ?’—and_ clutching his daughter violently by the arm, he drew her towards him. “ Fai will come home with me, and I will take care to put an end to your ram- bles. As for you, Lonsdale, | have but a few words to say. I was proceeding to your lodg- ing for the purpose of telling you that by Sir Arehibald Redburn’s command you are to seek employment elsewhere. Here ts a fortnight’s wages for you; and the sooner you get out of the village, the better.” As he thus spoke, the bailiff tossed some sil- ver in half-crowns at the feet of Frederick, who was standing about three yards distant: and then suddenly turing round, he dragged his daughter away with him, She threw a_ look upon Frederick which more eloquently than|the table before him. THE SOLDIER'S WIFE. mained faithful to his wonted -ocation. siif@ to him, in the other corner, sat Sergeant Langley—the object of all interest and the cynosure of attraction, Prim and stately after his own fashion, the sergeant could not possibl unbend in respect to his body, however mie he might in the gravity of his looks or the pompous severity of his speech, We have al- ready said he was a tall and somewhat stoutly built man: we may add that he had a red face—hair cropped quite short, and deficient on the upper part of the forehead—and emul twinkling gray eyes, which, if closely looked into, had a cunning, disagreeable, and even rep- tile-like expression. He had very little whis- kers: and being an infantry soldier, wore no monstache, His age appeared to be about five- and-forty : but it might very well have been three or four years more,—for he was a man who evidently wore well. The sergeant was smoking his pipe, but all the time holding forth with so little intermis- sion, that the volatile and bustling barber, Mr, Bates, could scarcely manage to get in a word edveways. There was something supremely ludicrous in the attitude and look of the little shaver, as he sat bending forward on the edge of his chair, with eyes as keenly fixed upon Sergeant Langley as if it were a cat watching a mouse: but Mr. Bates was watching for the shghtest pause in the soldier’s discourse that might afford him an opportunity of giving ut- terance to his own opinion. Indeed, so excru- ciating was the anxiety of Barber Bates to get ina word, that his halfsmoked pipe had becn suffered to go out and remain idle in his hand, while his pint of ale stood also untouched on It was evident too, that words could have done, seemed to remind him | Sergeant Langley was quite aware of his new of the vow that had so solemnly passed her/friend’s intention of pouucing as it were upon lips; and ere she turned her head again, she caught in mute response the dimness of his part- ing smile. He remained rivetted to the spot, gazing after the retreating forms of the bailiff and his daugh- ter: then, as they speedily disappeared from his view, he turned abruptly round and plunged into the thickest of the wood, there to give way to the anguish that filled his heart. but the movey which Davis had so contemptuously flung down, was left unheeded upon the bank. CHAPTER III. THE ALE-HOUSE PARLOR. Ir was nine o’clock—the blind was drawn down in the parlor of the Royal Oak—the can- dies were lighted upon the table—and there was a much larger attendance of guests than usual. At least a dozen persons were seated wound the room, puffing their pipes, and enjoy- ing Mr. Bushell’s good ale. This individual bimeeclf gat on one side of the fire-place—his ac- customed corner during the twenty years he had oeen laudlord of the Royal Oak; and although there was no fire in the pvrate in that warm the conversation, and the moment he got a fair gripe, monopolizing it all to himself: for the wily soldier studiously avoided giving the bar- ber any such chance. The buteher, the baker, the general-dealer, the tailor, the shoemaker, the parish clerk, the sexton, and the other leading men of the village, were all assembled on the occasicu; and the greater portion of them were listening with wide-open eyes and pricked-up ears to the marvellous stories that the sergeant was telling them. Of course Mr, Langley had a particular object to serve; and he managed matters with wonderful tact and astuteness. He had to beat down the prejudices that existed against a soldier’s life—to make the sense of its dangers merge into a feeling of patriotic enthusiasm—to gloss over its privations, its vicissitudes, and its degrading punishments—and in short, to create a paradise where the previous Impression was that a dreary desert existed, Of course the sergeant Boat not deal in truths while thus expatiating; and to say that his imagination was largely drawn upon, would only be to tell the reader something already suspected. There is. a common phrase about “shooting with the long bow ;” but certainly Sergeant Langley not only shot with one of the longest bows ever put into requisition, but handled it likewise epring season, “mine host” nevertheless re-| without the least clumsiness or want of dex: S| Gomiecboo (GE (ele)