Rookwood. Ainsworth William Harrison

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interest to herself. It was a dread calm, which they who knew her would have trembled to behold. "From these letters I gather," exclaimed she, "that their wretched offspring knows not of his fortune. So far, well. There is no channel whence he can derive information, and my first care shall be to prevent his obtaining any clue to the secret of his birth. I am directed to provide for him—ha! ha! I will provide—a grave! There will I bury him and his secret. My son's security and my own wrong demand it. I must choose surer hands—the work must not be half-done, as heretofore. And now, I bethink me, he is in the neighborhood, connected with a gang of poachers—'tis as I could wish it."

      At this moment a knock at the chamber-door broke upon her meditations. "Agnes, is it you?" demanded Lady Rookwood.

      Thus summoned, the old attendant entered the room.

      "Why are my orders disobeyed?" asked the lady, in a severe tone of voice. "Did I not say, when you delivered me this package from Mr. Coates, which he himself wished to present, that I would not be disturbed?"

      "You did, my lady, but–"

      "Speak out," said Lady Rookwood, somewhat more mildly, perceiving, from Agnes's manner, that she had something of importance to communicate. "What is it brings you hither?"

      "I am sorry," returned Agnes, "to disturb your ladyship, but—but–"

      "But what?" interrupted Lady Rookwood, impatiently.

      "I could not help it, my lady—he would have me come; he said he was resolved to see your ladyship, whether you would or not."

      "Would see me, ha! is it so? I guess his errand, and its object—he has some suspicion. No, that cannot be; he would not dare to tamper with these seals. Agnes, I will not see him."

      "But he swears, my lady, that he will not leave the house without seeing you—he would have forced his way into your presence, if I had not consented to announce him."

      "Insolent!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, with a glance of indignation; "force his way! I promise you he shall not display an equal anxiety to repeat the visit. Tell Mr. Coates I will see him."

      "Mr. Coates! Mercy on us, my lady, it's not he. He'd never have intruded upon you unasked. No such thing. He knows his place too well. No, no; it's not Mr. Coates–"

      "If not he, who is it?"

      "Luke Bradley; your ladyship knows whom I mean."

      "He here—now?–"

      "Yes, my lady; and looking so fierce and strange, I was quite frightened to see him. He looked so like his—his–"

      "His father, you would say. Speak out."

      "No, my lady, his grandfather—old Sir Reginald. He's the very image of him. But had not your ladyship better ring the alarm-bell? and when he comes in, I'll run and fetch the servants—he's dangerous, I'm sure."

      "I have no fears of him. He will see me, you say–"

      "Ay, will!" exclaimed Luke, as he threw open the door, and shut it forcibly after him, striding towards Lady Rookwood, "nor abide longer delay."

      It was an instant or two ere Lady Rookwood, thus taken by surprise, could command speech. She fixed her eyes with a look of keen and angry inquiry upon the bold intruder, who, nothing daunted, confronted her glances with a gaze as stern and steadfast as her own.

      "Who are you, and what seek you?" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, after a brief pause, and, in spite of herself, her voice sounded tremulously. "What would you have, that you venture to appear before me at this season and in this fashion?"

      "I might have chosen a fitter opportunity," returned Luke, "were it needed. My business will not brook delay—you must be pleased to overlook this intrusion on your privacy, at a season of sorrow like the present. As to the fashion of my visit, you must be content to excuse it. I cannot help myself. I may amend hereafter. Who I am, you are able, I doubt not, to divine. What I seek, you shall hear, when this old woman has left the room, unless you would have a witness to a declaration that concerns you as nearly as myself."

      An indefinite feeling of apprehension had, from the first instant of Luke's entrance crossed Lady Rookwood's mind. She, however, answered, with some calmness:

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      1

      See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "Les Secrets du Petit Albert."

      2

      The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus.

      3

      Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his indignation:

      But here, once more, ye rural muses weep

      The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep;

      Walls, mellowed into harmony by time,

      On which fantastic creepers used to climb;

      While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent

      Within their bounds, at least were innocent!—

      Our modern taste—alas!—no limit knows;

      O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows;

      Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn,

      In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn.

      The Landscape, a didactic Poem,

      addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq.

      4

      Mason's English Garden.

      5

      Cowley.

1

See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "Les Secrets du Petit Albert."

2

The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus.

3

Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus

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