"Gilbert, when there's work to do thou art always readier with thy
tongue than with thy fingers. Look! the match has gone out twice,--leave
off puffing and fetch the box; I'll manage about the candle."
I began to feel a strange sensation rambling about me. Gilbert left the
room, however, and I applied myself with redoubled diligence to the
crevice. My dishonest relation proceeded to revive the expiring sparks;
the light shone full upon his hard features. It might be fancy, but
guilt--broad, legible, remorseless guilt--seemed to mark every
inflection of his visage: his brow contracted,--his eye turned
cautiously and fearfully round the apartment, and more than once it
rested upon the gap I had made. I saw him strike his hand upon his
puckered brow, and a stifled groan escaped him; but as if ashamed of his
better feelings, he clenched it in an attitude of defiance, and listened
eagerly for the return of his servant. The slow footsteps of Gilbert
soon announced his approach, and apparently with some heavy burden. He
threw it on the floor, and I heard a key applied and the rusty wards
answering to the touch. The business in which they were now engaged was
out of my limited sphere of vision.
Pages:
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799