Old Hurricane pricked up his ears! Anything relating to the "Hidden
House" possessed immense interest for him.
"Who is she, John?" he inquired of the groom.
"Deed I dunno, sir, only they say she's a bootiful young creature,
fair as any lily, and dressed in deep mourning."
"Humph! humph! humph! another victim! Ten thousand chances to one,
another victim! who told you this, John?"
"Why, Marse, you see Tom Griffith, the Rev. Mr. Goodwill's man, he's
very thick long of Davy Hughs, Colonel Le Noir's coachman. And Davy
he told Tom how one day last month his marse ordered the carriage,
and went two or three days' journey up the country beyant Staunton,
there he stayed a week and then came home, fetching along with him
in the carriage this lovely young lady, who was dressed in the
deepest mourning, and wept all the way. They 'spects how she's an
orphan, and has lost all her friends, by the way she takes on."
"Another victim! My life on it--another victim! Poor child! She had
better be dead than in the power of that atrocious villain and
consummate hypocrite!" said Old Hurricane, passing on to the
examination of his favorite horses, one of which, the swiftest in
the stud, he found galled on the shoulders. Whereupon he flew into a
towering passion, abusing his unfortunate groom by every opprobrious
epithet blind fury could suggest, ordering him, as he valued whole
bones, to vacate the stable instantly, and never dare to set foot on
his premises again as he valued his life, an order which the man
meekly accepted and immediately disobeyed, muttered to himself:
"Humph! If we took ole marse at his word, there'd never be man or
'oman left on the 'state," knowing full well that his tempestuous
old master would probably forget all about it, as soon as he got
comfortably seated at the supper table of Hurricane Hall, toward
which the old man now trotted off.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54