Catherine: A Story

t lady in high good-humour. The Count had been with her, she said, along with a friend of his, Mr. Trippet; had promised her twelve yards of the lace she coveted so much; had vowed that the c

he; "only not very wise, and se

e could hardly stand. He and his honour were talking to Nan Fantail in th

upon my conscience now, Corporal, it was but an hour ago that Mr. Trippet swore he never saw such a pa

favourite of the Captain's before someone else came in

rs. Cat, rather offended. "A nasty, ugly s

ith her, sure enough; it's

at my Max is fond of her NOW?" said

t all: not of

screamed she.

usiness is it of mine?" And herewith the Corporal began whistling, as if he would have no more of t

That man has been the best friend I ever had, and so I was quiet; but I can't keep it in any longer,-no, hang me if I can! It

m to tell all he kn

pretend to go there, on recruiting business. No such thing, Mrs. Hall; he's going on MARRIAGE business; and he'll leave you without a farthing, to starve or to rot, for him. It's all arranged, I tell you: in a month, you are to be starved into becoming Tom Trippet's mistress; and his honour is

ocured a glass of water; and, lifting her on to a sofa, s

f persons of higher degree. She pressed him for further explanations, which he gave, and to which she listened with a great deal of calmness; nor did many tears, sobs, sighs, or exclamations of sorrow or anger escape fro

way, immersed in deep thought. When the Captain returned at night, she did not speak to him; and when he swore at her for being sulky,

rning for a moment: he

ce to whom she could apply for poison,-so she went simply to the apothecaries, pretending at each that sh

s return from shooting in such a manner as made him remark that she had got rid of her sulks of the morning, and might sup with them, if she chose to keep her goo

ho must live, can act honestly by the public and themselves, is to paint such thieves as they are: not, dandy, poetical, rose-water thieves; but real downright scoundrels, leading scoundrelly lives, drunken, profligate, dissolute, low; as scoundrels will be. They don't quote Plato, like Eugene Aram; or live like gentlemen, and sing the pleasantest ballads in the world, like jolly Dick Turpin; or prate eternally about "to kalon,"[*] like that precious canting Maltravers, whom we all of us have read about and pitied; or die whitewashed saints, like poor "Biss Dadsy" in "Oliver Twist." No, my dear madam, you and your daughters have no right to admire and sympathise with any such persons, fictit

n of the author's o

talked, and they drank, and they grew tipsy; and very little worth hearing occurred during the course of the whole evening. Mr. Brock officiated, half as the servant, half as the companion of the society. Mr. Thomas Trippet made violent love to Mrs. Catherine, while her lord and master was playing at dice with the other gentlemen: and on this night, strange to say, the Captain's fortune seemed to desert him. The Warwickshire Squire

till lingering by Mrs. Catherine's sofa and table; and as she, as we have stated, had been employed all the evening in mixing the li

n would let him, that the Captain could not see him: so he rose from his chair as well as he could, and fell down on Mrs. Catherine's sofa. His eyes were fixed,

retch fell off the sofa, and on to the floor, where he stayed; a

the candles were burning

the Count. "Four. Three

d the Warwick

clap, ELEVEN. Clutter, clutter, clutter, clutter: "Seven it is,

said the Count. "But stop!

ed somewhat. "Here is the punch, Max," said she. It was steaming hot

s!" said the C

brandy,"

you!" and he gulped off more than half the liquor at a draught. But prese

little of it. "'Tis good punch, Max, and of my brewing; I don't think you will ever get

curiosity. The Count sputtered, and cursed the horrid taste of the pun

s winnings, rose from table as well as he might and

ing wildly about ill-luck, seven's the main, bad punch, and so on. The street-door bange

answer. "Max," said she again,

our paws upon me. Go to bed, you jade, or to --, for what I care;

ech, and the request contained at the end of it, showed that his lo

Mrs. Cat, "you-don't-

mpering jade, you? Get out!" and with this the Captain pr

putes of this nature had arisen between the Count and her; but now Mrs. Catherine fell on her knees and,

slapped your face? Ha, ha! I'll fo

"It isn't that. Max, dear Max, will you forgiv

, you-maud

THE

"The punch! No, I never will forgive you that last glass of punch. Of all the foul, be

hat, it isn't t

t punch was no better than paw-aw-oison." And here

POISON!"

nd spurning her away from him. "What, you

um-indeed it was. You were going to be marr

remainder of the liquor (and, indeed, the glass with it) at the head of Mrs. Catherine. But the poisoned chalice m

nd drew his rapier. "Come on," says he; "never say die! What's the row? I'm read

ed the Count, as he too pulled out his

e!" and she placed that gentleman between herself and the Count, and

her, I will-I'll have the devil's life." And here he gave a swinging cut at Mr. Trippet's sw

ippet: "I'm drunk, but I'm a man,

u, Trippet, wake and be sober, if you can. That w

nd pound," eja

you, and POISONED us. She ha

t, growing quite sober and losin

ctor; 'tis our only chance." And away ran Mr

im, but that he showed the greatest daring, as well as ingenuity, in meeting and averting the danger. He flew to the sideboard, where were the relics of a supper, and seizing the mustard and salt pots, and a bottle of oil, he emptied them all into a jug, into which he further poured a vast quantity of hot water. This pleasing mixture he

that the poisoned punch had not in all probability been given to him. He was recommended to take some of the Count's mixture, as a pr

th; but after some time the doctor, pronouncing that the danger was, he hoped, averted, recommended t

the poor Count. "You must turn her out of the bedroom;

found a small iron bar (indeed, he had the instrument for many days in his pocket), and forced

d the Count-"is

The Captain, who was too weak to stand without help, was undressed and put to bed. The Corporal sat down by his side; slumber sto

n placed in his mouth, and that the Corporal was in the act of wheeling his bed to another part of the room. He

t in the least, I will cut your h

en meditating this coup for some days), he proceeded first to attempt to burst the lock of the little iron chest in which th

, will you? I'm going to leave it of my own accord, look you, and to live like a gentleman for the rest of my days. Schlafen

ight, Mr. Brock had roused the ostler at the stables where the Captain's horses were kept-had told him that Mrs. Catherine had poisoned the Count, and had run off with a thousand pounds; and how he and all lovers of justice ought to scour the country in pursuit of t