BUXTON

I have a good many things to tell you, for we leave Buxton to-morrow,

but I will first finish the story of Angelica and Pomeroy. I think the

men who pulled the bath-chairs of the lovers knew pretty much how

things was going, for whenever they got a chance they brought their

chairs together, and I often noticed them looking out for the old

father, and if they saw him coming they would move away from each other

if they happened to be together.

If Snortfrizzle's puller had been one of the regular bath-chair men

they might have made an agreement with him so that he would have kept

away from them; but he was a man in livery, with a high hat, who walked

very regular, like a high-stepping horse, and who, it was plain enough

to see, never had anything to do with common bath-chair men. Old

Snortfrizzle seemed to be smelling a rat more and more--that is, if it

is proper to liken Cupid to such an animal--and his nose seemed to get

purpler and purpler. I think he would always have kept close to

Angelica's chair if it hadn't been that he had a way of falling asleep,

and whenever he did this his man always walked very slow, being

naturally lazy. Two or three times I have seen Snortfrizzle wake up,

shout to his man, and make him trot around a clump of trees and into

some narrow path where he thought his daughter might have gone.

Things began to look pretty bad, for the old man had very strong

suspicions about Pomeroy, and was so very wide awake when he was awake,

that I knew it couldn't be long before he caught the two together, and

then I didn't believe that Angelica would ever come into these gardens

again.

It was yesterday morning that I saw old Snortfrizzle with his chin down

on his shirt bosom, snoring so steady that his hat heaved, being very

slowly pulled along a shady walk, and then I saw his daughter, who was

not far ahead of him, turn into another walk, which led down by the

river. I knew very well that she ought not to turn into that walk,

because it didn't in any way lead to the place where Pomeroy was

sitting in his bath-chair behind a great clump of bushes and flowers,

with his face filled with the most lively emotions, but overspread

ever and anon by a cloudlet of despair on account of the approach of

the noontide hour, when Angelica and Snortfrizzle generally went home.

[Illustration: "Your brother is over there"]

The time was short, and I believed that love's young dream must be put

off until the next day if Angelica could not be made aware where

Pomeroy was sitting, or Pomeroy where Angelica was going; so I got

right up and made a short cut down a steep little path, and, sure

enough, I met her when I got to the bottom. "I beg your pardon very

much, miss," said I, "but your brother is over there in the entrance to

the cave, and I think he has been looking for you." "My brother?" said

she, turning as red as her ribbons was blue. "Oh, thank you very much!

Robertson, you may take me that way."

It wasn't long before I saw those two bath-chairs alongside of each

other, and covered from general observation by masses of blooming

shrubbery. As I had been the cause of bringing them together I thought

I had a right to look at them a little while, as that would be the only

reward I'd be likely to get, and so I did it. It was as I thought;

things was coming to a climax; the bath-chair men standing with much

consideration with their backs to their vehicles, and, united for the

time being by their clasped hands, the lovers grew tender to a degree

which I would have fain checked, had I been nearer, for fear of notice

by passers-by.

But now my blood froze within my veins. I would never have believed

that a man in a high hat and livery a size too small for him could run,

but Snortfrizzle's man did, and at a pace which ought to have been

prohibited by law. I saw him coming from an unsuspected quarter, and

swoop around that clump of flowers and foliage. Regardless of

consequences I approached nearer. There was loud voices; there was

exclamations; there was a rattling of wheels; there was the sundering

of tender ties!

In a moment Pomeroy, who had backed off but a little way, began to

speak, but his voice was drowned in the thunder of Snortfrizzle's

denunciations. Angelica wept, and her head fell upon her lovely bosom,

and I am sure I heard her implore her man to remove her from the scene.

Pomeroy remained, his face firm, his eyes undaunted, but Snortfrizzle

shook his fist in unison with his nose, and, hurling an anathema at

him, followed his daughter, probably to incarcerate her in her

apartments.

All was over, and I returned to Jone with a heavy heart and faltering

step. I could not but feel that I had brought about the sad end of this

tender chapter in the lives of Pomeroy and Angelica. If I had let them

alone they would not have met and they would not have been discovered

together. I didn't tell Jone what had happened, because he does not

always sympathize with me in my interest in others, and for hours my

heart was heavy.

It was about a half an hour before dinner that day when I thought that

a little walk might raise my spirits, and I wandered into the gardens,

for which we each have a weekly ticket, and there, to my amazement, not

far from the gate I saw Angelica in tears and her bath-chair. Her man

was not with her, and she was alone. When she saw me she looked at me

for a minute, and then she beckoned to me to come to her. I flew. There

were but few people in the gardens, and we was alone.

"Madam," said she, "I think you must be very kind. I believe you knew

that gentleman was not my brother. He is not."

"My dear miss," said I--I was almost on the point of calling her

Angelica--"I knew that. I know that he is something nearer and dearer

than even a brother."

She blushed. "Yes," said she, "you are right, and we are in great

trouble."

"Oh, what is it? Tell me quick. What can I do to help you?"

"My father is very angry," said she, "and has forbidden me ever to see

him again, and he is going to take me home to-morrow. But we have

agreed to fly together to-day. It is our only chance, but he is not

here. Oh, dear! I do not know what I shall do."

"Where are you going to fly to?" said I.

"We want to take the Edinburgh train this evening if there is one," she

said, "and we get off at Carlisle, and from there it is only a little

way to Gretna Green."

"Gretna Green!" I cried. "Oh, I will help you! I will help you! Why

isn't the gentleman here, and where has he gone?"

"He has gone to see about the trains," she said, almost crying, "and I

don't see what keeps him. I could not get away until father went into

his room to dress for dinner, and as soon as he is ready he will call

for me. Where can he be? I have sent my man to look for him."

"Oh, I'll go look for him! You wait here," I cried, forgetting that

she would have to, and away I went.

As I was hurrying out of the gates of the gardens I looked in the

direction of the railroad station, and there I saw Pomeroy pulled by

one bath-chair man and the other one talking to him. In twenty bounds I

reached him. "Go back for your young lady," I cried to Robertson,

Angelica's man, "and bring her here on the run. She sent me for you."

Away went Robertson, and then I said to the astonished Pomeroy, "Sir,

there is no time for explanations. Your lady-love will be with you in a

minute. My husband and I are going to Edinburgh to-morrow, and I have

looked up all the trains. There is one which leaves here at twenty

minutes past six. If she comes soon you will have time to catch it.

Have you your baggage ready?"

He looked at me as if he wondered who on earth I was, but I am sure he

saw my soul in my face and trusted me.

"Yes," he said, "she has a little bag in her bath-chair, and mine is

here."

"Here she comes," said I, "and you must fly to the station."

In a moment Angelica was with us, her face beaming with delight.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried, but I would not listen to her

gratitude. "Hurry!" I said, "or you will be too late. Joy go with

you."

They hastened off, and I walked back to the gardens. I looked at my

watch, and to my horror I saw it was five minutes past six. Fifteen

minutes left yet. Fifteen minutes in which they might be overtaken. I

stopped for a moment irresolutely. What should I do? I thought of

running after them to the station. I thought in some way I might help

them--buy their tickets or do something. But while I was thinking I

heard a rattle, and down the street came the man in livery, and

Snortfrizzle's bottle-nose like a volcano behind him. The minute they

reached me, and there was nobody else in the street, the old man

shouted, "Hi! Have you seen two bath-chairs with a young man and a

young woman in them?"

I was on the point of saying No, but changed my mind like a flash. "Did

the young lady wear a hat with blue ribbons?" I asked.

"Yes!" he roared. "Which way did they go?"

"And did the young man with her wear eyeglasses and a brown moustache?"

"With her, was he?" screamed Snortfrizzle. "That's the rascal. Which

way did they go? Tell me instantly."

When I was a very little girl I knew an old woman who told me that if a

person was really good at heart, the holy angels would allow that

person, in the course of her life, twelve fibs without charge, provided

they was told for the good of somebody and not to do harm. Now at

such a moment as this I could not remember how many fibs of that kind I

had left over to my credit, but I knew there must be at least one, and

so I didn't hesitate a second. "They have gone to the Cat and Fiddle,"

said I. "I heard them tell their bath-chair men so, as they urged them

forward at the top of their speed. They stopped for a second here, sir,

and I heard the gentleman send a cabman for a clergyman, post haste, to

meet them at the Cat and Fiddle."

[Illustration: TO THE CAT AND FIDDLE]

If the sky had been lighted up by the eruption of Snortfrizzle's nose I

should not have been surprised.

"The fools! They can't! Cat and Fiddle! But they can't be half way

there. Martin, to the Cat and Fiddle!"

The man touched his hat. "But I couldn't do that, sir. I couldn't run

to the Cat and Fiddle. It's long miles, sir. Shall I get a carriage?"

"Carriage!" cried the old man, and then he began to look about him.

Horror struck me. Perhaps they would go to the station for one! Just

then a boy driving a pony and a grocery cart came up.

"There you are, sir," I cried. "Hire that boy to tow you. Your butler

can sit in the back of the cart and hold the handle of your bath-chair.

It may take long to get a carriage, and the cart will go much faster.

You may overtake them in a mile."

Old Snortfrizzle never so much as thanked me or looked at me. He yelled

to the boy in the cart, offered him ten shillings and sixpence to give

him a tow, and in less time than I could take to write it, that flunky

with a high hat was sitting in the tail of the cart, the pony was going

at full gallop, and the old man's bath-chair was spinning on behind it

at a great rate.

I did not leave that spot--standing statue-like and looking along both

roads--until I heard the rumble of the departing train, and then I

repaired to the Old Hall, my soul uplifted. I found Jone in an awful

fluster about my being out so late; but I do stay pretty late sometimes

when I walk by myself, and so he hadn't anything new to say.

_Letter Number Twenty_