Читать «Лучшие романы Томаса Майна Рида / The Best of Thomas Mayne Reid» онлайн - страница 684
Н. А. Самуэльян
Chapter 31
The Abduction
To Chakra, viewing them from the summit of the Jumbé Rock, the well-lighted windows of Mount Welcome had proclaimed the presence of company within the mansion. In this, however, the Coromantee was mistaken. In the past such an appearance might have had that signification, or up to a very late period – that is, up to the date of the arrival of the distinguished Smythje. Since the latter had become the guest of Mount Welcome, however, the illumination of the mansion with chandelier and candelabra was not only not unusual, but had been the nightly practice.
This was Mr Vaughan’s pleasure; which, in his absence, the house steward had injunctions to carry out. The grand hall was only lit up as usual, its lustrous floor glistening in the brilliant light, while the profusion of cut glass and silver plate sparkled upon the sideboards, loudly proclaiming the opulence of the planter. There was no strange company present – none expected – no one who did not belong to the family, except Mr Smythje; and he could scarcely be considered a stranger. Rather might he be regarded – for the time at least – as the master of the mansion: since in that charge had the Custos left him.
The only individuals occupying this splendid apartment were Smythje and the young mistress of Mount Welcome – both yet ignorant of what had occurred upon the Savanna Road – that fearful event which had left Kate Vaughan a fatherless orphan, at the same time depriving her of the proud title we have just bestowed upon her.
Yola, her attendant, went and came at intervals, and Thoms occasionally presented himself in the apartment, in obedience to a summons from his master.
Notwithstanding the absence of company, Smythje was in full evening dress – body-coat, breeches, silk stockings, and pumps, with silver buckles. It was his custom to dress, or be dressed, every evening – a custom so scrupulously observed, that had there been no one in the house except the negro domestics of the establishment, Smythje would have appeared in full fashionable costume all the same. With him the exigencies of fashion were as rigorous as to a holy friar would be the observances of his religion.
The gentleman was in high spirits – merry, indeed; and, strange to say, his companion was less melancholy than of late. No doubt this had given him his cue for mirth.
Why she had been enabled to escape from her habitual dejection was not known to Smythje; but he was fain to attribute the improvement in her spirits to the near prospect of that pleasant ceremony which in a few days must indubitably take place. In a week, or a fortnight at most, Mr Vaughan might be expected back; and then it was understood by all – tacitly by the young lady herself – that the union of Mount Welcome and Montagu Castle should be no longer delayed.
Smythje had even begun to talk of the wedding
