A Terrible Temptation (Fiscle Part 3) by Charles Reade (motivational books for men TXT) 📖
- Author: Charles Reade
Book online «A Terrible Temptation (Fiscle Part 3) by Charles Reade (motivational books for men TXT) 📖». Author Charles Reade
Again. He Shot Sir Charles's Pheasants Whenever They Strayed Into His
Hedgerows, And He Lived Moderately And Studied Health. In A Word,
Content With The Result Of His Anonymous Letter, He Confined Himself
Now To Cannily Out-Living The Wrongful Heir--His Cousin.
One Fine Frosty Day The Chimneys Of Huntercombe Began To Show Signs Of
Life; Vertical Columns Of Blue Smoke Rose In The Air, One After
Another, Till At Last There Were About Forty Going.
Old Servants Flowed Down From London. New Ones Trickled In, With Their
Boxes, From The Country. Carriages Were Drawn Out Into The Stable-Yard,
Horses Exercised, And A Whisper Ran That Sir Charles Was Coming To Live
On His Estates, And Not Alone.
Richard Bassett Went About Inquiring Cautiously.
The Rumor Spread And Was Confirmed By Some Little Facts.
At Last, One Fine Day, When The Chimneys Were All Smoking, The
Church-Bells Began To Peal.
Richard Bassett Heard, And Went Out, Scowling Deeply. He Found The
Village All Agog With Expectation.
Presently There Was A Loud Cheer From The Steeple, And A Flag Floated
From The Top Of Huntercombe House. Murmurs. Distant Cheers. Approaching
Cheers. The Clatter Of Horses' Feet. The Roll Of Wheels. Huntercombe
Gates Flung Wide Open By A Cluster Of Grooms And Keepers.
Then On Came Two Outriders, Ushered By Loud Hurrahs, And Followed By A
Carriage And Four That Dashed Through The Village Amid Peals Of Delight
From The Villagers. The Carriage Was Open, And In It Sat Sir Charles
And Bella Bassett. She Was Lovelier Than Ever; She Dazzled The Very Air
With Her Beauty And Her Glorious Hair. The Hurrahs Of The Villagers
Part 3 Chapter 8 Pg 62Made Her Heart Beat; She Pressed Sir Charles's Hand Tenderly, And
Literally Shone With Joy And Pride; And So She Swept Past Richard
Bassett; She Saw Him Directly, Shuddered A Moment, And Half Clung To
Her Husband; Then On Again, And Passed Through The Open Gates Amid Loud
Cheers. She Alighted In Her Own Hall, And Walked, Nodding And Smiling
Sunnily, Through Two Files Of Domestics And Retainers; And Thought No
More Of Richard Bassett Than Some Bright Bird That Has Flown Over A
Rattlesnake And Glanced Down At Him.
But A Gorgeous Bird Cannot Always Be Flying. A Snake Can Sometimes
Creep Under Her Perch, And Glare, And Keep Hissing, Till She Shudders
And Droops And Lays Her Plumage In The Dust.
Part 3 Chapter 9 Pg 63
Generally Deliberate Crimes Are Followed By Some Great Punishment; But
They Are Also Often Attended In Their Course By Briefer
Chastisements--Single Strokes From The Whip That Holds The Round Dozen
In Reserve. These Precursors Of The Grand Expiation Are Sharp But
Kindly Lashes, For They Tend To Whip The Man Out Of The Wrong Road.
Such A Stroke Fell On Richard Bassett: He Saw Bella Bruce Sweep Past
Him, Clinging To Her Husband, And Shuddering At Himself. For This,
Then, He Had Plotted And Intrigued And Written An Anonymous Letter. The
Only Woman He Had Ever Loved At All Went Past Him With A Look Of
Aversion, And Was His Enemy's Wife, And Would Soon Be The Mother Of
That Enemy's Children, And Blot Him Forever Out Of The Coveted
Inheritance.
The Man Crept Home, And Sat By His Little Fireside, Crushed. Indeed,
From That Hour He Disappeared, And Drank His Bitter Cup Alone.
After A While It Transpired In The Village That He Was Very Ill. The
Clergyman Went To Visit Him, But Was Not Admitted. The Only Person Who
Got To See Him Was His Friend Wheeler, A Small But Sharp Attorney, By
Whose Advice He Acted In Country Matters. This Wheeler Was Very Fond Of
Shooting, And Could Not Get A Crack At A Pheasant Except On Highmore;
And That Was A Bond Between Him And Its Proprietor. It Was Wheeler Who
Had First Told Bassett Not To Despair Of Possessing The Estates, Since
They Had Inserted Sir Charles's Heir At Law In The Entail.
Part 3 Chapter 9 Pg 64
This Wheeler Found Him Now So Shrunk In Body, So Pale And Haggard In
Face, And Dejected In Mind, That He Was Really Shocked, And Asked Leave
To Send A Doctor From A Neighboring Town.
"What To Do?" Said Richard, Moodily. "It's My Mind; It's Not My Body.
Ah, Wheeler, It Is All Over. I And Mine Shall Never Have Huntercombe
Now."
"I'll Tell You What It Is," Said Wheeler, Almost Angrily, "You Will
Have Six Feet By Two Of It Before Long If You Go On This Way. Was Ever
Such Folly! To Fret Yourself Out Of This Jolly World Because You Can't
Get One Particular Slice Of Its Upper Crust. Why, One Bit Of Land Is As
Good As Another; And I'll Show You How To Get Land--In This
Neighborhood, Too. Ay, Right Under Sir Charles's Nose."
"Show Me That," Said Bassett, Gloomily And Incredulously.
"Leave Off Moping, Then, And I Will. I Advise The Bank, You Know, And
'Splatchett's' Farm Is Mortgaged Up To The Eyes. It Is Not The Only
One. I Go To The Village Inns, And Pick Up All The Gossip I Hear
There."
"How Am I To Find Money To Buy Land?"
"I'll Put You Up To That, Too; But You Must Leave Off Moping. Hang It,
Man, Never Say Die. There Are Plenty Of Chances On The Cards. Get Your
Color Back, And Marry A Girl With Money, And Turn That Into Land. The
First Thing Is To Leave Off Grizzling. Why, You Are Playing The Enemy's
Game. That Can't Be Right, Can It?"
This Remark Was The First That Really Roused The Sick Man.
Wheeler Had Too Few Clients To Lose One. He Now Visited Bassett Almost
Daily, And, Being Himself Full Of Schemes And Inventions, He Got
Bassett, By Degrees, Out Of His Lethargy, And He Emerged Into Daylight
Again; But He Looked Thin, And Yellow As A Guinea, And He Had Turned
Miser. He Kept But One Servant, And Fed Her And Himself At Sir Charles
Bassett's Expense. He Wired That Gentleman's Hares And Rabbits In His
Own Hedges. He Went Out With His Gun Every Sunny Afternoon, And Shot A
Brace Or Two Of Pheasants, Without Disturbing The Rest; For He Took No
Dog With Him To Run And Yelp, But A Little Boy, Who Quietly Tapped The
Hedgerows And Walked The Sunny Banks And Shaws. They Never Came Home
Empty-Handed.
But On Those Rarer Occasions When Sir Charles And His Friends Beat The
Bassett Woods Richard Was Sure To Make A Large Bag; For He Was A Cool,
Unerring Shot, And Flushed The Birds In Hedgerows, Slips Of Underwood,
Etc., To Which The Fairer Sportsmen Had Driven Them.
These Birds And The Surplus Hares He Always Sold In The Market-Town,
And Put The Money Into A Box. The Rabbits He Ate, And Also Squirrels,
And, Above All, Young Hedgehogs: A Gypsy Taught Him How To Cook Them,
Viz., By Inclosing Them In Clay, And Baking Them In Wood Embers; Then
Part 3 Chapter 9 Pg 65The Bristles Adhere To The Burned Clay, And The Meat Is Juicy. He Was
His Own Gardener, And Vegetables Cost Him Next To Nothing.
So He Went On Through All The Winter Months, And By The Spring His
Health And Strength Were Restored. Then He Turned Woodman, Cut Down
Every Stick Of Timber In A Little Wood Near His House, And Sold It; And
Then Set To Work To Grub Up The Roots For Fires, And Cleared It For
Tillage. The Sum He Received For The Wood Was Much More Than He
Expected, And This He Made A Note Of.
He Had A Strong Body, That Could Work Hard All Day, A Big Hate, And A
Mania For The Possession Of Land. And So He Led A Truly Spartan Life,
And Everybody In The Village Said He Was Mad.
While He Led This Hard Life Sir Charles And Lady Bassett Were The
Gayest Of The Gay. She Was The Beauty And The Bride. Visits And
Invitations Poured In From Every Part Of The Country. Sir Charles,
Flattered By The Homage Paid To His Beloved, Made Himself Younger And
Less Fastidious To Indulge Her; And The Happy Pair Often Drove Twelve
Miles To Dinner, And Twenty To Dine And Sleep--An Excellent Custom In
That Country, One Of Whose Favorite Toasts Is Worth Recording: "May You
Dine Where You Please, And Sleep Where You Dine."
They Were At Every Ball, And Gave One Or Two Themselves.
Above All, They Enjoyed Society In That Delightful Form Which Is
Confined To Large Houses. They Would Have Numerous And Well-Assorted
Visitors Staying At The House For A Week Or So, And All Dining At A
Huge Round Table. But Two O'clock P.M. Was The Time To See How Hosts
And Guests Enjoyed Themselves. The Hall Door Of Huntercombe Was
Approached By A Flight Of Stone Steps, Easy Of Ascent, And About
Twenty-Four Feet Wide. At The Riding Hour The County Ladies Used To
Come, One After Another, Holding Up Their Riding-Habits With One Hand,
And Perch About This Gigantic Flight Of Steps Like Peacocks, And
Chatter Like Jays, While The Servants Walked Their Horses About The
Gravel Esplanade, And The Four-In-Hand Waited A Little In The Rear. A
Fine Champing Of Bits And Fidgeting Of Thoroughbreds There Was, Till
All Were Ready; Then The Ladies Would Each Put Out Her Little Foot,
With Charming Nonchalance, To The Nearest Gentleman Or Groom, With A
Slight Preference For The Grooms, Who Were More Practiced. The Man
Lifted, The Lady Sprang At The Same Time, And Into Her Saddle Like A
Bird--Lady Bassett On A Very Quiet Pony, Or In The Carriage To Please
Some Dowager--And Away They Clattered In High Spirits, A Regular
Cavalcade. It Was A Hunting County, And
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