LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 391, 13 September 1875, Page 4

LITERATURE.

SAVED BY A HAIR’S-BREADTH. TOLD BY THE HOUSEKEEPER. ( Concluded.) Well we drove on, and warmed, as we were, by our rest and refreshment, the road did not seem so dreary and cold as before. My young mistress was very silent, and for my part I must confess that I actually fell asleep. We reckoned to arrive at York a little before nine. At last I was roused by a slight shake from Miss Adela. ‘Raites,’ she said, ‘we must have missed our way !’ And she took her watch from her bpsom and showed me, by the faint light of a carriage taper that we had with us, that it was nearly ten o’clock. Just at that moment we heard a very gentle tapping at the back of the carriage. I must tell you that in our old-fashioned carriage there was a small trap, through which any one inside the carriage could communicate with the footman behind, in the same way that people riding now in Hansom cabs communicate with the driver. I got up on the seat, and raised the trap softly, for 1 began to have a faint suspicion of something wrong. Young Kemp’s face was so close to the open trap that it almost touched mine. • Mrs Raites,’ he whispered, in a frightened tone, *what can this mean? We are three miles beyond York, and I have discovered that Tomlin is not on the box. It is Sir Luke Hendon who is driving us, I was petrified at the lad’s statement; but I always had a good share of ‘ presence of mind;’ so I gently shut down the trap, and proceeded to relate what I had heard to my young lady, She was greatly startled at first; but, after a few moments pause she said, * The only thing to be done is to speak toJSir|Luke at once.’ We spoke without hesitation ; yet I eould tell by the trembling of her hand that she was much agitated. As for me, I guessed at once that it was a plot of Sir Luke’s to run away with Miss Paulinson. It was a hanging matter, however in those days, and I trusted to frighten him ; so I put my head out of the window and screamed out, ‘ Sir Luke ! Sir Luke ! my young lady desires to speak with you !’ I suppose that he knew an explanation must come sooner or later, for he pulled up the horses and descended immediately. His face was hard, stem and determined, as he came to the carriage window; and I saw then what I had never seen before, the villainous nature of the man peeping out through the mask of outward courtesy, beneath which he had hitherto veiled it. Miss Paulinson asked in as steady a voice as she could command, what was the meaning of this extraordinary proceeding. ‘ And where is Tomlin ?’ she added, ‘ Tomlin is at the Hendon Arms, sound asleep,’ said Sir Luke ; ‘ and the meaning of this proceeding is that 1 am taking you to Scotland, there immediately to make you my wife.’

I really to this day think that the man could not hare been perfectly sane ; for as he pronounced these words, he pulled out a couple of pistols and showed us that they were primed and loaded. ‘ There is no one on this desolate road to hear you cry out.’ Sir Luke said ; ‘ but when we come to inhabited districts, if you venture to cry out, there will be an end of you all three.’ Well, what could we do ? The lad Kemp was unarmed, and only eighteen years old, and we were two poor defenceless women. We could not cope with an armed and desperate man. Sir Luke extracted from us all three a promise to hold our tongues until we were over the border. My young mistress, who believed we had a madman to deal with whispered to me not to excite him. So we gave the required promise. But I thought .to myself that directly we were over the border no mortal man should keep my tongue between my teeth. Sir Luke grew calmer when we had given our words not to call out for assistance, and when my young lady asked our destination, he said, quite calmly and coolly—‘We are first going to be married at Gretna Green. ’

And so we drove on, in what state of mind you may imagine. At any rate, we were not forbidden to speak to each other, and my young lady and I held a consultation in whispers. At last a brilliant idea occurred to me—for, having nothing to dread on my own account, I was by far the calmer of the two.

* Miss Adela,’ I said, have your tablets with you ?’ My young lady drew from her bosom a S£t pf small ivory tablets suspended by a gold chain, which she usually carried with her, and which, I suppose, on this occasion she had intended to use for keeping a list of her partners at the ball. ‘ Here they are Eaites,’ she said. It may seem strange to you, my dears, but the greater the danger the stronger became pay nerves. I believe it is sometimes so. so, Miss Adela was trembling like a leaf, and did just as I bid her. I made her write a few words to Mr Dumcastle. I believe they were as nearly as possible these—- . * I am carried on to Gretna Grean by force. Follow immediately!’ My poor young mistress wrote them. Then I softly raised the trap and I spoke to young Kemp. I told him to drop gently to the ground, and carry the tablets to Mr Everard with all speed. He was a born Yorkshireman, and knew every inch of the country; and, besides, as I have said, he was devoted to my young lady, so he needed no pressing. I watched him with great anxiety as he stealthily swung himself out of the rumble, for I feared the terrible consequence, if Sir Luke should hear him. But the snow broke his fall and deadened the sound, and I breathed again. On we bowled, and I was busy with my own thoughts, whilst my young lady sat with clasped hands, and never uttered a syllable. At daybreak we stopped to breakfast at the roadside inn, where the people were clearly in Sir Luke’s pay, as they showed no sort of astonishment at my young lady’s dress. She was supplied also with suitable travelling things, so it was evident Sir Luke had laid his plans well. For my part, I saw it was useless as yet to raise any alarm, and so did Miss Adela. There was nothing for it but to take things quietly and be patient. Well, we travelled allfthat day and part of the next, and at dusk we reached Gretna Green. Here Sir Luke conducted us to a small cottage, where we were watched by some creatures of his own—in fact, kept close prisoners. Sir Luke, I suppose, had £o&e to make preparations lot the marriage,

I can’t tell you how terribly long those few hours seemed; my young lady sat in a sort of dull despair, heeding nothing that was said to her. I had almost lost hope, for I expected Sir Luke every moment, and I thought that by this time Mr Everard ought to have appeared. What if anything had happened to young Kemp ? He might have lost his way in a snow-drift, and the message have never reached Mr Durncastle. The idea was terrible. I shut my eyes and prayed as I never in my life prayed before. At last, we heard the sound of Sir Luke’s voice, and my young lady shivered from head to foot. The dreaded moment had arrived. Sir Luke entered the room of the cottage in which we were sitting, with a look of cool determination on his brow, and his lips firmly set together, ‘ Come Adela,’ was all he said, and he held out his arm. But she did not move, and I verily believe she had lost the power of moving. At that moment I faacied that I heard the sound of wheels on the road, deadened certainly by the snow, but still I felt snre I heard them. My whole object was now to gain time. I said to Sir Luke, ‘My young lady must be hurried and I proceeded to eke out the time by offering her a smelling bottle and other feminine conveniences for averting hysterics. At last Sir Luke would no more be trifled with; he seized my young lady rather roughly by the arm, and insisted on immediate compliance. He in fact dragged her on to her feet, but as he did so the sound of a loud altercation was audible in front of the cottage. * I tell you there is no lady here.’ I heard the woman who rented the hut say. Quick as thought, and before Sir Luke could stop her, I forced open the door, ‘ There is, there is !’ I screamed ; and my eyes fell upon Mr Everard Durncastle and young Kemp, who were standing outside expostulating with the virago who called, herself mistress of the cottage. ‘O, heaven be praised, Mr Everard!’ I exclaimed. ‘You are just in time.’ * Where is she ?’ he cried. And led him to my poor young lady, who had fallen in a dead swoon. Never can I forget Sir Luke Hendon’s face as he glared at us. The veins of his temples stood out like cords, and hi» eyeballs were like coals of fire; a purple flush spread over his countenance. He tried to spead, but words failed him ; he gave a sort of husky snort, and, producing one of his pistols, took aim deliberately at Mr Everard, but before he couldl pul the trigger he fell heavily forward, and the pistol exploding, the bullet passed harmlessly through the window. Sir Luke Hendon, a victim to his own violent passions, had had a stroke of apoplexy. He never spoke again. I suppose you can guess the sequel. Sir Richard consented to his sister’s marriage with Mr Everard Duncastle, and for the sake of Sir Luke’s family, his misdeeds were hushed up. Let us hope that the poor man was mad, Tomlin, the coachman, I must add, had been faithful, but had been drugged by Sir Luke.