The Soldier's Wife — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

48 Comforted and strengthened by this out- pouring of her davotions, Lucy retired to rest ; and sleep fell upon her eyes. She awoke at an early hour, and heard her father moving in his own rvom, which was next to her’s. She attired herself in her best apparel: but it was with a fluttering heart and trembling hands that she performed the duties of the toilet— for the presentiment of coming evil was gradu- ally yet surely stealing back again to her soul. In case of the worst, she took with her what- poever amount of money she possessed, and which consisted of ten pounds. She likewise secured about her person some few little tiin- kets which she had received as mementos from her deceased mother; and as her preparations thus appeared ominous of a separation from her home for a long time—perhaps for ever—she was seized with a sudden paroxysm of grief, and the tears streamed down her cheeks. Somewhat relieved by this outpouring of her soul’s affliction, she composed her looks as well as she was able—wiped away the traces of her tears—and descended to the parlor. Her fa- ther was already there. Nothing in his aspect, his words, or his manner, indicated a sinister design: so that once more did Lucy beyin to recover confidence. She could not however induce herself to swallow a morsel of food; and every now and then she sank into fits of such deep abstraction that when she suddenly started up from them again, she observed her sire surveying her with a scrutinizing look. “T do not feel well to-day,” she at length said, “and would much rather you would ex- cuse my accompanying you.” “The little jaunt will do you good,” re- sponded Mr. Davis. “We shall not return home till to-morrow, and therefore you must take a few necessaries with you. Be quick, Lucy: for it is time we should start.” The young damsel, perceiving that it was ueeless to urge any further objection, ascended once again to her chamber, and found Martha there. “My dear Miss,” said the faithful servant- girl, “how unhappy yeu look! Surely you do not fear that there is something wreng in the gudden journey you are about to take {” “Martha, my dear girl, I know not what to think,” replied Lucy, with a sort of hysterical nervousness. “I am unhappy—very unhappy. It may be all ree on my part; and heaven rant that itis! But I cannot help entertain- ing some terrible apprehension. Even now it seems to me as if I were taking a last farewell of my little chamber—and of you also!” “Do not go, dear Miss—do not go!” said the girl, weeping. “Imucy, are you ready?” exclaimed the bailiff’s voice from the bottom of the stairs. “In a moment, father,” she replied: then haying hurried on her bonnet and shawl, she embraced Martha with a stronger presenti- ment than ever that it was really a farewell she was thus taking. “Good bye, my dear, dear young mistress,” said the good-hearted peasant-girl, who was frightened as well as grieved at Lucy's appear- auce: for though it was a fine warm autumn THE SOLDIER'S WIFE. morning, yet the bailiff’s daughter shivered ae if under the influence of an ice-wind. Luey sped down stairs with a little parce. of necessaries in her hand, and found her fa ther waiting somewhat impatiently. She flung a quick but melancholy look around the little parlor—still feeling as if she were bidding a long adieu to her once happy home: and then she issued forth from the cottage. Her father gave her his arm; and they descended the gentle slope towards the village, Davia spoke more than he had been wont to do for some tie past, and likewise with an air of more’ affectionate cheerfulness; but he had all the conversation to himself, for Lucy said nothing, She did not hear the remarks he made: she knew that he was talking—but the sense of his discourse was lost upon her, so completely absorbed was she in her own reflections. They approached the Royal Oak, where Mr. Bushell’s neat little chaise-cart was in readi- ness; and Davis said in a hurried whisper to his daughter, ‘For heaven’s sake, Lucy, cheer up! What makes you so dull? One would think that instead of a pleasure jaunt, we were gvoing upon some melancholy mission,” The very words struck prophetic upon Luey’s brain, and she bent a wild look upon her father, as if there were bewilderment mingled with terror in her thoughts. He hastened to assist her into the vehicle; and placing hinself by her side, took the reins from the hostler. “You won't get your chaise back again till to-morrow, friend Bushell,” he observed to the landlord, who was standing near to see them off. | “Tt’s quite at your service, Mr. Davis, for as long as you choose. A pleasant journey to you —and to you also, Miss.” The chaise-cart then drove away, and as it passed through the village, Lucey observed Bates standing upon the threshold of his shop. It might have been fancy, or it might not, but it certainly struck her, as she threw a look of aversion upon him, that the barber’s counten- ance wore at the moment an expression of sar- donie malignity—a fiendish diabolical mockery, which struck hke an ice-bolt to her heart, leav- ing behind it the influence of a superstitious terror as if she had just beheld a bird of ill omen. The chaise-cart passed on, the village was cleared, and the travellers were borne rapidly along the road towards Middleton, where they were to take the stage-coach. Mr. Davis continued to discourse with cheer fulness and kindness, and imperceptibly Lucy's spirits rose somewhat. The excitement cf travelling contributed its effect thus to give a healthier tone to her mind, and by the time Middleton was reached, she had almost sue ceeded in persuading herself that she had been torturing her heart with very foolish and croundless fears. The vehicle was put up at the inn where the coach stopped, two inside places were found vacant in the stage—and father and daughter were now whirling along the high road to Coventry. Lhe clocks of this ancient place of Lady Go diva renown, were striking twelve as the stage” é GEomilcboo Cc <s) (ele)