The Castle Inn - Page 347/559

It was only a slender shaft that entered, but it fell athwart the girl's

face and showed him her closed eyes. She lay back in her corner, her

cheeks colourless, an expression of dull, hopeless suffering stamped on

her features. She did not move or open her eyes, and the tutor dared not

speak lest his words should be heard outside. But he looked, having

nothing to check him, and looked; and in spite of his fears and his

preoccupation, the longer he looked the deeper was the impression which

her beauty made on his senses.

He could hear no more of the men's talk than muttered grumblings

plentifully bestrewn with curses; and wonder what was forward and why

they remained inactive grew more and more upon him. At length he rose

and applied his eyes to the crack that admitted the light; but he could

distinguish nothing outside, the lamp, which was close to the window,

blinding him. At times he caught the clink of a bottle, and fancied that

the men were supping; but he knew nothing for certain, and by-and-by the

light was put out. A brief--and agonising--period of silence followed,

during which he thought that he caught the distant tramp of horses; but

he had heard the same sound before, it might be the beating of his

heart, and before he could decide, oaths and exclamations broke the

silence, and there was a sudden bustle. In less than a minute the chaise

lurched forward, a whip cracked, and they took the road again.

The tutor breathed more freely, and, rid of the fear of being overheard,

regained a little of his unctuousness. 'My dear good lady,' he said,

moving a trifle nearer to Julia, and even making a timid plunge for her

hand, 'you must not give way. I protest you must not give way. Depend on

me! Depend on me, and all will be well. I--oh dear, what a bump!

I'--this as he retreated precipitately to his corner--'I fear we are

stopping!' They were, but only for an instant, that the lamps might be lighted.

Then the chaise rolled on again, but from the way in which it jolted and

bounded, shaking its passengers this way and that, it was evident that

it no longer kept the main road. The moment this became clear to Mr.

Thomasson his courage vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

'Where are they taking us?' he cried, rising and sitting down again; and

peering first this way and then the other. 'My G--d, we are undone! We

shall be murdered--I know we shall! Oh dear! what a jolt! They are

taking us to some cut-throat place! There again! Didn't you feel it?

Don't you understand, woman? Oh, Lord,' he continued, piteously wringing

his hands, 'why did I mix myself up with this trouble?' She did not answer, and enraged by her silence and insensibility, the

cowardly tutor could have found it in his heart to strike her.

Fortunately the ray of light which now penetrated the carriage suggested

an idea which he hastened to carry out. He had no paper, and, given

paper, he had no ink; but falling back on what he had, he lugged out his

snuff-box and pen-knife, and holding the box in the ray of light, and

himself as still as the road permitted, he set to work, laboriously and

with set teeth, to scrawl on the bottom of the box the message of which

we know. To address it to Mr. Fishwick and sign it Julia were natural

precautions, since he knew that the girl, and not he, would be the

object of pursuit. When he had finished his task, which was no light

one--the road growing worse and the carriage shaking more and more--he

went to thrust the box under the door, which fitted ill at the bottom.

But stooping to remove the straw, he reflected that probably the road

they were in was a country lane, where the box would be difficult to

find; and in a voice trembling with fear and impatience, he called to

the girl to give him her black kerchief.