The moon broke through the clouds; the wet cobbles of the court below me gleamed like a pool of silver water. He came riding swiftly to the house, leaving Mother Mag to secure the gate; I saw him sitting stiffly upon a great black horse, a black cloak flapping all about him. A gust swept his hat from his head, but his hand caught it; his silver-white hair was blown out in disorder. He looked up, as he drew in before the p. 82door; momentarily I saw a proud and baleful face; cut like a piece of fine white ivory. I saw the very shining of his eyes, as moonlight and the lamplight from the house played fully on him; and on the instant, indeed, I understood from that cruel face—like, yet so much unlike, my father’s—none whom this man hated or feared might hope for mercy from him. p. 82 And thus for the first time I looked upon my Uncle Charles Craike of Rogues’ Haven. p. 83Chapter X. Scruples of Roger Galt p. 83 As the gentleman entered the house, I slipped back to the bed, purposing, when I was assured that he would not come directly to my room, to test whether I could hear through the break in the ceiling of the room below and the parting of the flooring under my feet what should pass among my enemies. I heard him enter the room; I heard Mother Mag’s return to the house and the clashing of the doors, as she made all fast. I dropped down then, and lying prone, found that by pressing my ears against the parting in the floor I could hear distinctly. And I found the gentleman berating Roger by the fire. “Mark you, my man, I’ll have no more of this,” he was declaring, in clear, authoritative tone. “You’ll serve me when I will, or how I will, or take the consequences.” “Mr. Charles Craike,” growled Roger, “I tell you I’ll not endure too much from you or any other man. I’ll serve you when I will, and as it suits me. Set the runners on to me—ay, set them—it won’t be the first time by a many as p. 84I’ve shown ’em a clean pair of heels. I’ve an affair of my own callin’ me miles from here; I should have been off long since.” p. 84 “Peace, fool!” said Mr. Craike, contemptuously.
Prev.
Back
Top