Chapter 34 - Page 2

into him, do you, master?a€™ said Hugh.

a€˜Yes I do, sir,a€™ returned Mr Willet. a€˜I put the heart (as you call it) into him when he has brought me safe home again, and his standing steady on his legs ana€™t of so much consequence. So hold that light up, if you please, and go on a step or two before, to show the way.a€™

Hugh obeyed with a very indifferent grace, and a longing glance at the bottles. Old John, laying strict injunctions on his cook to keep the doors locked in his absence, and to open to nobody but himself on pain of dismissal, followed him into the blustering darkness out of doors.

The way was wet and dismal, and the night so black, that if Mr Willet had been his own pilot, he would have walked into a deep horsepond within a few hundred yards of his own house, and would certainly have terminated his career in that ignoble sphere of action. But Hugh, who had a sight as keen as any hawka€™s, and, apart from that endowment, could have found his way blindfold to any place within a dozen miles, dragged old John along, quite deaf to his remonstrances, and took his own course without the slightest reference to, or notice of, his master. So they made head against the wind as they best could; Hugh crushing the wet grass beneath his heavy tread, and stalking on after his ordinary savage fashion; John Willet following at arma€™s length, picking his steps, and looking about him, now for bogs and ditches, and now for such stray ghosts as might be wandering abroad, with looks of as much dismay and uneasiness as his immovable face was capable of expressing.

At length they stood upon the broad gravel-walk before the Warren house. The building was profoundly dark, and none were moving near it save themselves. From one solitary turret-chamber, however, there shone a ray of light; and towards this speck of comfort in the cold, cheerless, silent scene, Mr Willet bade his pilot lead him.

a€˜The old room,a€™ said John, looking timidly upward; a€˜Mr Reubena€™s own apartment, God be with us! I wonder his brother likes to sit there, so late at nighta€"on this night too.a€™

a€˜Why, where else should he sit?a€™ asked Hugh, holding the lantern to his breast, to keep the candle from the wind, while he trimmed it with his fingers. a€˜Ita€™s snug enough, ana€™t it?a€™

a€˜Snug!a€™ said John indignantly. a€˜You have a comfortable idea of snugness, you have, sir. Do you know what was done in that room, you ruffian?a€™

a€˜Why, what is it the worse for that!a€™ cried Hugh, looking into Johna€™s fat face. a€˜Does it keep out the rain, and snow, and wind, the less for that? Is it less