134 TYLNEY HALL. CHAPTER XIX. Death and destruction ! Are all the horrors of air, fire, and water, to be levell'd only at me ? Am I only to be singled out for gunpowder-plots, combustibles and conflagration ? Here it is an incendiary letter dropped at my door ! ***** I'm so frightened 1 scarce know whether I sit, stand, or go. Perhaps this moment I'm treading on lighted matches, blazing brimstone, and barrels of gunpowder! They are preparing to blow me up into the clouds! Murder! We shall all be burnt in our beds! We shall all be burnt in our beds ! Croaker, I have met with so many axidents, surprisals, and terrifications, that I am in a perfect fantigo, and believe I shall never be my own self again. Win. Jenkins. JUST as the Baronet entered the drawing-room, Mrs. Twigg began to give signs of returning animation. Her snub nose, almost excoriated by smelling-salts, worked with convulsive twitchings ; and as her daughter fanned her she gave at every puff of air a gasp like a gudgeon ; at last she opened her eyes, and sat staring about her like the Lady in Comus, in the Enchanted Chair. " Upon my honour, Sir Mark/' said Twigg, " I am really ashamed of this rumpus. It's so ridiculous having these family things in a strange house. Curse it, madam, if you must " faint, I wish you'd contrive to do it at home r u Really, Pa', you're rather unfeeling," lisped Miss " Twigg. When insensibility affects the nerves we can't always faint where we like." " That's all gammon," said Twigg, in the very spirit of Major Oakley, " you take precious good care never to and catch you swooning away into flop down in a kennel ; a fish-pond, or having a kicking fit in the fender. But, says you, that would spoil one's clothes."
TYLNEY HALL. 135 " when people have a volcano under their feet ! Things are come to a crisis. Sir Mark Tyrrel, Baronet ! Mrs. Hamilton, madam we live in very awful times, very " awful indeed ! " My dear fellow, hold hard," said the Baronet, laying his hand on Twigg's arm, and whispering into his ear, " you will have her into fits again if you don't hold hard, for she's amiss and out of heart," " Let her faint," said Twigg, elevating his voice to the proper pitch for a forum. "The hour is come when people must not think of females and fits. The very thing old friend Jack Dawe said in the common council is my coming to pass. A rise-up of servants against masters, and servants against mistresses of people with nothing, against people of property. There's been a dead set at us ever since we came to Hollington." " To be sure," said Sir Mark, gravely;