[The House by the Church-Yard by J. Sheridan Le Fanu]@TWC D-Link book
The House by the Church-Yard

CHAPTER XLVII
7/7

Nutter stood on the door-step, where he could hear faintly, from above stairs, the cries and wails of poor, hysterical Mrs.Nutter.He remained there a good while, during which, unperceived by him, Dr.Toole's pestle-and-mortar-boy, who had entered by the back-way, had taken a seat in the hall.

He was waiting for an empty draught-bottle, in exchange for a replenished flask of the same agreeable beverage, which he had just delivered; for physic was one of poor Mrs.Nutter's weaknesses, though, happily, she did not swallow half what came home for her.
When Nutter turned round, the boy--a sharp, tattling vagabond, he knew him well--was reading a printed card he had picked up from the floor, with the impress of Nutter's hob-nailed tread upon it.

It was endorsed upon the back, 'For Mrs.Macnamara, with the humble duty of her obedient servant, M.M.' 'What's that, Sirrah ?' shouted Nutter.
'For Mrs.Nutter, I think, Sir,' said the urchin, jumping up with a start.
'Mrs.Nutter,' repeated he--'No--Mrs.Mac--Macnamara,' and he thrust it into his surtout pocket.

'And what brings you here, Sirrah ?' he added savagely; for he thought everybody was spying after him now, and, as I said, he knew him for a tattling young dog--he had taken the infection from his master, who had trained him.
'Here, woman,' he cried to Moggy, who was passing again, 'give that pimping rascal his -- -- answer; and see, Sirrah, if I find you sneaking about the place again, I'll lay that whip across your back.' Nutter went into the small room again.
'An' how are ye, Jemmie--how's every inch iv you ?' enquired Moggy of the boy, when his agitation was a little blown over.
'I'm elegant, thank ye,' he answered; 'an' what's the matther wid ye all?
I cum through the kitchen, and seen no one.' 'Och! didn't you hear?
The poor mistress--she's as bad as bad can be.' And then began a whispered confidence, broken short by Nutter's again emerging, with the leather belt he wore at night on, and a short back-sword, called a _coutteau de chasse_, therein, and a heavy walking-cane in his hand.
'Get tea for me, wench, in half an hour,' said he, this time quite quietly, though still sternly, and without seeming to observe the quaking boy, who, at first sight, referred these martial preparations to a resolution to do execution upon him forthwith; 'you'll find me in the garden when it's ready.' And he strode out, and pushing open the wicket door in the thick garden hedge, and, with his cane shouldered, walked with a quick, resolute step down towards the pretty walk by the river, with the thick privet hedge and the row of old pear trees by it.

And that was the last that was heard or seen of Mr.Nutter for some time..


<<Back  Index  Next>>

D-Link book Top

TWC mobile books