My Novel — Volume 10 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 51 of 149 (34%)
page 51 of 149 (34%)
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"And I," said L'Estrange, calmly, "tell you already that I fear you no
more." He bowed, and passed through the crowd to rejoin Audley, who was seated in a corner whispering with some of his political colleagues. Before Harley reached the minister, he found himself close to Randal and young Hazeldean. He bowed to the first, and extended his hand to the last. Randal felt the distinction, and his sullen, bitter pride was deeply galled,--a feeling of hate towards Harley passed into his mind. He was pleased to see the cold hesitation with which Frank just touched the hand offered to him. But Randal had not been the only person whose watch upon Beatrice the keen-eyed Harley had noticed. Harley had seen the angry looks of Frank Hazeldean, and divined the cause. So he smiled forgivingly at the slight he had received. "You are like me, Mr. Hazeldean," said he. "You think something of the heart should go with all courtesy that bespeaks friendship-- "'The hand of Douglas is his own.'" Here Harley drew aside Randal. "Mr. Leslie, a word with you. If I wished to know the retreat of Dr. Riccabocca, in order to render him a great service, would you confide to me that secret?" "That woman has let out her suspicions that I know the exile's retreat," thought Randal; and with quick presence of mind, he replied at once, "My Lord, yonder stands a connection of Dr. Riccabocca's. Mr. Hazeldean is surely the person to whom you should address this inquiry." "Not so, Mr. Leslie; for I suspect that he cannot answer it, and that you |
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