Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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Upon Lord Ethalwood’s return to Broxbridge, he summoned his butler, Mr. Jakyl, to his presence. He was sitting alone in his library at this time, and before him rose, like so many ghosts, all the hopes he had centred in his beautiful daughter. He remembered her as a lovely laughing child—​as a merry and artless girl. His brow was dark, and his eyes were red with weeping.

Despite his pride, his sternness, his terrible contempt and scorn, there was something pitiful in the proud man’s silent, solitary despair.

Never again was he destined to hear the gay young voice—​never more to watch the beautiful face. She was worse, ten thousand times worse, than dead. If she had been snatched from him by the icy fingers of death, he could have loved her still—​could have visited her grave—​he could have spoken of her, but she was dishonoured and disgraced—​she had brought scorn and contempt down upon the very name of Ethalwood.

“Ahem! did you ring, my lord?” said the butler, who had crept so quietly into the room that his master was not aware of his presence. It was a way he had—​he was so very soft and gentle in his movements.