"P. SOMERSET.
"HARROWBY ABBEY, TWO O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING."
Dr. Cavendish remained in a profound sleep, whilst Pembroke, with an
aching heart having written the above letter, and dispatched it by a
man and horse, tried to compose himself to half an hour's
forgetfulness of life and its turmoils; but he found his attempts as
ineffectual as those of his friend.
Thaddeus had found no repose on his restless pillow. Reluctant to
disturb the doctor and Somerset, who, he hoped, having less cause for
regret, were sleeping tranquilly, he remained in bed; but he longed
for morning. To his fevered nerves, any change of position, with
movement, seemed better than where he was, and with some gleams of
pleasure he watched the dawn, and the rising of the son behind the
opposite hill. He got up, opened the window to inhale the air, and
looking out, saw a man throw himself off a horse, which was all in
foam, and enter the house.
Surprised at this circumstance, he descended to the parlor to make
inquiry, and met the man in the hall, who, being Pembroke's
messenger, had returned express from the Castle, bearing an order
from Sir Robert (who was taken alarmingly ill) that his son must come
back immediately.
Dismayed with this new distress, Mr. Somerset, on its instant
information, pressed the count so closely to his breast when he bade
him farewell, that a more suspicious person might have apprehended it
was a final parting; but Thaddeus discerned nothing more in the
anguish of his friend's countenance than fear for the safety of Sir
Robert; and fervently wishing his recovery, he bade Pembroke remember
that should more assistance be necessary, Dr.
Pages:
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589