Clive looked sadly at me. "He was often so at Boulogne, Arthur," he
whispered; "after a scene with that--that woman yonder, his head would
go: he never replied to her taunts; he bore her infernal cruelty without
an unkind word--Oh! I pay her back, thank God I can pay her! But who
shall pay her," he said, trembling in every limb, "for what she has made
that good man suffer?"
He turned to his father, who still sate lost in his meditations. "You
need never go back to Grey Friars, father!" he cried out."
"Not go back, Clivy? Must go back, boy, to say Adsum, when my name is
called. Newcome! Adsum! Hey! that is what we used to say--we used to
say!"
"You need not go back, except to pack your things, and return and live
with me and Boy," Clive continued, and he told Colonel Newcome rapidly
the story of the legacy. The old man seemed hardly to comprehend it. When
he did, the news scarcely elated him; when Clive said "they could now pay
Mrs. Mackenzie," the Colonel replied, "Quite right, quite right," and
added up the sum, principal and interest, in which they were indebted to
her--he knew it well enough, the good old man.
Pages:
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833