Hunted Down | Page 8

liable to confinement to the house. I have
not seen my shadow for days and days; but it does oddly happen,
occasionally, that wherever I go, for many days together, this
gentleman goes. We have come together in the most unfrequented
nooks on this shore.'
'Is this he?' said I, pointing before us.
The wheels had swept down to the water's edge, and described a great
loop on the sand in turning. Bringing the loop back towards us, and
spinning it out as it came, was a hand-carriage, drawn by a man.
'Yes,' said Miss Niner, 'this really is my shadow, uncle.'
As the carriage approached us and we approached the carriage, I saw
within it an old man, whose head was sunk on his breast, and who was
enveloped in a variety of wrappers. He was drawn by a very quiet but
very keen-looking man, with iron-gray hair, who was slightly lame.
They had passed us, when the carriage stopped, and the old gentleman
within, putting out his arm, called to me by my name. I went back, and
was absent from Mr. Slinkton and his niece for about five minutes.
When I rejoined them, Mr. Slinkton was the first to speak. Indeed, he
said to me in a raised voice before I came up with him:
'It is well you have not been longer, or my niece might have died of
curiosity to know who her shadow is, Mr. Sampson.'
'An old East India Director,' said I. 'An intimate friend of our friend's,
at whose house I first had the pleasure of meeting you. A certain Major
Banks. You have heard of him?'
'Never.'

'Very rich, Miss Niner; but very old, and very crippled. An amiable
man, sensible - much interested in you. He has just been expatiating on
the affection that he has observed to exist between you and your uncle.'
Mr. Slinkton was holding his hat again, and he passed his hand up the
straight walk, as if he himself went up it serenely, after me.
'Mr. Sampson,' he said, tenderly pressing his niece's arm in his, 'our
affection was always a strong one, for we have had but few near ties.
We have still fewer now. We have associations to bring us together,
that are not of this world, Margaret.'
'Dear uncle!' murmured the young lady, and turned her face aside to
hide her tears.
'My niece and I have such remembrances and regrets in common, Mr.
Sampson,' he feelingly pursued, 'that it would be strange indeed if the
relations between us were cold or indifferent. If I remember a
conversation we once had together, you will understand the reference I
make. Cheer up, dear Margaret. Don't droop, don't droop. My Margaret!
I cannot bear to see you droop!'
The poor young lady was very much affected, but controlled herself.
His feelings, too, were very acute. In a word, he found himself under
such great need of a restorative, that he presently went away, to take a
bath of sea-water, leaving the young lady and me sitting by a point of
rock, and probably presuming - but that you will say was a pardonable
indulgence in a luxury - that she would praise him with all her heart.
She did, poor thing! With all her confiding heart, she praised him to me,
for his care of her dead sister, and for his untiring devotion in her last
illness. The sister had wasted away very slowly, and wild and terrible
fantasies had come over her toward the end, but he had never been
impatient with her, or at a loss; had always been gentle, watchful, and
self-possessed. The sister had known him, as she had known him, to be
the best of men, the kindest of men, and yet a man of such admirable
strength of character, as to be a very tower for the support of their weak
natures while their poor lives endured.

'I shall leave him, Mr. Sampson, very soon,' said the young lady; 'I
know my life is drawing to an end; and when I am gone, I hope he will
marry and be happy. I am sure he has lived single so long, only for my
sake, and for my poor, poor sister's.'
The little hand-carriage had made another great loop on the damp sand,
and was coming back again, gradually spinning out a slim figure of
eight, half a mile long.
'Young lady,' said I, looking around, laying my hand upon her arm, and
speaking in a low voice, 'time presses. You hear the gentle murmur of
that sea?'
She looked at me with the utmost wonder and alarm, saying, 'Yes!'
'And you know what a voice is in it when the storm comes?'
'Yes!'
'You see how quiet and peaceful it