The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900)
By-and-bye, however, a kind of hush seemed to descend upon the place, broken only by
the booming of the waves, and the chiming of the great Pavilion clock. Would that
weary night never come to an end?
All at once a sudden clatter, coming from the direction on which his attention was
concentrated, sent a shiver of expectation through his frame. Many voices talking and
laughing together, shrill whistles piercing the night, chairmen and link-boys starting up,
by magic, it would seem, from the very ground. Simon pressed forward eagerly — was
she there? Might he not miss her amid the sudden confusion?
[379]
Hark! there were the cracked languid tones of Lord Robert. Was he talking to her? No,
the figure to whom the voice belonged was in the act of being hoisted with some
difficulty into a sedan-chair. As the yeoman looked round he observed that the guests
now leaving the Pavilion, some it must be owned with a staggering and uncertain gait,
were all of the male sex; in a few moments more they had melted away, and but for the
sound of retreating steps and, voices, silence once more prevailed.
The deep-tongued clock struck out solemnly: One!
Obeying a sudden and uncontrollable impulse Simon hastened after two figures who
were proceeding more slowly, if more steadily, than the others, and presently came up
with them, his hurried steps causing them to turn in surprise. They were young men,
their faces both being strange to him.
"How now,” cried one; "what do you want, sir? If this is a foot-pad,” he added to his
companion, "he seems to be a bold one."
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said Simon, "I would but ask a question. Has the party
yonder," pointing in the direction of the Pavilion, "come to an end yet? I am waiting for
one of the guests."
“I imagine, sir, you will have to wait some time; only a few of the Prince's immediate
friends have remained. Having squeezed us dry his Royal Highness has been graciously
pleased to dismiss the rest of us. The favoured few mean to make a night of it. I think
'tis scarce worth your while, sir, to wait any longer — they will probably continue to